


It's All We Have

by ArgoLane



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Stiles, M/M, Mild Language, Multi, POV Alternating, Pack Feels, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Bromance, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-17 09:04:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5863069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgoLane/pseuds/ArgoLane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Nogitsune is expelled from Stiles, but Stiles doesn't wake up immediately after. When Stiles does wake up, he and Scott talk about what's happened. (Basically everything we never saw in the aftermath of 3B)  Sciles (NOT Friends to Lovers.) Angst. Slight language. No Slash. **I OWN NOTHING**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The story is mostly semi-canon. I want to include certain parts of the original show because I believe most of it was executed beautifully, however the whole premise of this particular work is basically: what happened if Stiles didn't wake up immediately following the Nogitsune's death, and how does everyone cope with all this trauma they've found themselves in the middle of.

CHAPTER 1

STILES

“Divine move? Divine move? You think you have any moves at all?”

The Nogitsune advanced on Lydia and I. The strawberry blonde was clutched to my side as we both stumbled back away from the demon.

“You can kill the Oni, but me? Me? I’m a thousand years old, YOU CAN’T KILL ME!” 

“But we can change you!” Lydia gasped out.

The dark Kitsune cocked his head at the pair, “What?” it whispered.

“You forgot about the scroll” I said, my throat raw with exhaustion. 

“The Shugendo scroll…” Lydia said.

The demon stiffened, realization dawning on it, “Change the host…” it muttered. I stepped forward, confidence surging in me, “You can’t be a fox and a wolf…”

Suddenly, Scott grabs the Nogitsune and sinks his teeth into its arm and Kira stabs the katana through it’s body for good measure. The demon cried out in agony as it convulsed and writhed. Defeated, it dropped to it’s knees and glanced at me for a quick moment before the host body began to crack and desecrate, leaving nothing but a pile of dust behind.

It was over and done. The Nogitsune’s hold over me was relinquished and he was gone. No sooner did I realize the relief swimming through me before my legs gave out and everything was black.

 

SCOTT

I ran forward to my best friend’s side, panic already setting in. I checked his pulse; weak, but present. I looked up at everyone, Kira, Lydia, and Isaac, not knowing what to do. Lydia knelt down next to me and slowly removed my hands away from Stiles. She looked at me, “He’s going to be ok. We need to get him out of here.”

“You’re…you’re right…we need to get him out of here.” I managed to choke out.

Seeing Stiles still and pale like this, like he didn’t even look alive was enough to make me feel like everything was never going to be the same again. With trembling hands, I fished the keys to Stiles’ Jeep out of his pocket and stuck them into mine before I picked him up in my arms and carried away from the school.

…

“I don’t know…”

“I don’t know, but he’s not waking up…”

“Can you help him? Please. I need to know why he’s not awake yet.”

“Ok, I’ll be there soon…thank you…”

I set the phone down on the console and reverted my attention back to the road. I gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white and hands shaking. The events from the past couple of days had left everyone damaged beyond repair: Stiles had been possessed beyond the point of recognition; Allison was gone. The thought of her sent a wave of grief over my body before I quickly discarded any hint of her to the back of my mind, not allowing myself to dwell on it when Stiles was slumped in the passenger seat. I stole some glances at him any time I could, hoping that I would see his body stir, even just a little bit. My ears were constantly perked, listening to his weak heartbeat and for any sign of wavering or upticks. Stiles’ face was still pale, the bags under his eyes even more prominent than they have been lately. My foot slowly became heavier as it pushed down on the accelerator, propelling the Jeep faster to the Animal Clinic.

…


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

I slowly set down Stiles' fragile frame down onto the cold, steel table. My eyes swept over his body, noticing just how skinny and lanky my brother had become. I felt a strong hand on my shoulder.

"Are you alright, Scott?" whispered Deaton. Even without looking I could feel his eyes on me. I didn't answer. I didn't know what or how I felt. The relief that came with expelling the Nogitsune from Stiles had been rivaled with the fear of losing yet another important person in his life. The idea hovered over my head and I couldn't bear it. Was I going to be responsible for another death? Another funeral? Something was aching in my chest, something werewolf abilities couldn't possibly heal. The void left behind from when I sacrificed myself for my mom's life, for Stiles' dad, and Allison's dad had seemed to triple in size.

Deaton, acquiescing to Scott's silence, began to examine Stile's body. His eyes scanned the pale frame, looking for any sign of injury. He took Stiles's temperature and peeled open his eyelids to examine those chocolate brown eyes Scott knew so well. After listening to his pulse, the Animal Doctor reached over to a shelf and grabs two capsules with white pills inside each, promptly handing them over to Scott.

"These are B12 and Folate supplements, it'll help with his fatigue and treat his paleness. As to why he's not waking up…I'm convinced all he needs is time." Deaton says. I finally look him in the eyes, "Time?" I hear myself say. "How long will that be?"

"He could wake up tonight, tomorrow, in a couple of days…" Deaton shrugs off his lab coat and settles it onto a chair, Scot noticing that he seems to be choosing his next words carefully, "If it's a week out and we still don't have a response, we're going to have to take him into intensive care…" My body tenses. "Shouldn't we take him to Beacon Memorial? Now?"

Deaton shakes his head dismissively. "The entire hospital is in disarray, the Nogitsune paid a visit before you confronted it at the school."

The hospital

"My mom…" I whispered, eyes shifting frantically, "Is she alright? Is she still there? What happened? Is she-" Deaton raised a hand calmly. "Your mother is fine. As soon as I heard what was going on I contacted your mother to let her know you were okay and that you were coming to see me."

Relief washed over me again.

Deaton continued, "For the time being, take him to your house. Look after him. If he hasn't waken up by tomorrow afternoon, I'll be around so we can get some food into his system intravenously."

I nodded as I turned my gaze back to Stiles, always slightly taken aback at the ghostly complexion he had taken the past couple of days. I grabbed his cold hand in mine, comforted in the fact that there was no pain to leech. My thumb absentmindedly stroked the crook of his hand, the only way he could maybe show Stiles that he was still there.

Come back to me, man.

…

I slowly pulled into my driveway and froze as soon as I heard another heartbeat coming from within the house. I looked around and noticed that my mom's car was nowhere to be seen. Who could it be? My nose wrinkled as I attempted to pick up the scent and was reassured when I recognized it, the scent of a strawberry blonde, the scent of a banshee.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

LYDIA

I sat upright on the unfamiliar mattress of Scott's bed, my hands in my lap, waiting patiently for the Alpha while I let warm tears fall slowly down my face. My subconscious softly scolded itself for letting my make-up run, but it was a distant, nagging afterthought; an afterthought I had no desire to pay attention to.

If I'm being perfectly honest, I'm not even entirely sure why I'm here. Part of me feels like I need to tell Scott what happened at the school after he took off with Stiles to the Animal Clinic, while the other part is simply anxious to see whether or not Stiles had woken up as of yet.

The events of the last few hours played over in my head again and again, my mind constantly reassuring itself that the Nogitsune had been successfully dispelled from Stiles. The threat of losing Stiles became a commonality during the past few weeks, yet the battle was not won without casualties. Isaac, severely burned and electrocuted; Aiden, killed at the hands at one of the Oni…and Allison…

I clenched my eyes shut, eyelids acting as a dam to stop the torrent of tears that I knew would come if I dwelled on the death of my best friend any longer. I know that, eventually, I will have to come to terms with her death, but denial seems to consume me. Life without Allison was hardly life at all. Apart from Stiles, she was the only one who could see past the cold, hard façade I held up in front of myself during the day at school; constantly pretending that I never have a clue what anyone is talking about and slathering on make-up every morning with a forced smile, convincing myself that everyone needs me to be the Lydia Martin.

Absentmindedly, I took out my phone, un-locked it, and scrolled down my contacts list until my thumb hovered over a name I hadn't seen or involved myself with since last year. He had a right to know. Even though I knew fully well that he and Allison weren't the closest, I felt like he had a right to know…just as much as anyone…

"Lydia?"

My head turned at the sound of the cracked, soft voice that spoke from the doorway. Scott stood there, somewhat awkwardly carrying the still unconscious and a slightly alarmingly pale Stiles in his arms. I didn't notice the sound of the Jeep pulling into the driveway, or the sound of labored steps climbing the wooden stairs, but the one thing I did notice was the weariness lining Scott's face and the redness and puffiness that encroached his eyes.

"Scott.." I whispered, getting up from the bed so Scott could lay Stiles down on it. I watched as he gingerly laid the chocolate-haired teen on the comforter and reaching around one side of the bed to the bedside drawer to extract a wool blanket, with which he wrapped around Stiles, even making sure the blanket covered Stiles' feet.

He didn't look at me; his eyes remained glued to Stiles' rising and falling chest. I glanced at his ears and noticed that they were perked, listening intently to his best friend's vitals. I slowly reached over a hand and laid it on Scott's knee and whispered, "Scott…"

His eyes lowered to look at where my hand was resting, then slowly looked back to Stiles. He gulped in a breath before he spoke again, "It's my fault…"

Crap.

"No…no, no, Scott…none of this was your fault…how can it be?" I reasoned, patiently looking at his face, waiting for his brown eyes to make contact with my hazel ones. "This was the Nogitsune's doing, not yours. No one blames you for what happened…" As soon as that last line left my mouth, I immediately wished it didn't.

"You're lying…" Scott's broken voice said to me. "I heard your heartbeat…you're lying…" The lump in my throat swelled to three times it's size as I felt myself relive the last hour's events…

…

"Ethan, we have to go…"

"No…I can't…I can't leave him here…"

"Derek will take care of the body, y-you just need to come with me before Sherriff Stilinski comes…"

"To HELL with that pathetic excuse of a Sherriff! And his goddamn worthless son!"

"…Ethan…how can you…"

"If it wasn't for him, the Oni wouldn't have ever been summoned in the first place and Ethan would still be alive! And maybe if Scott was half the Alpha people thought he was, then no one would have gotten hurt…Allison would still be here if it weren't for Scott and you know it, Lydia…"

"…I…Ethan…I can't believe…"

"Goodbye, Lydia…"

…

"Aiden's dead...and Ethan blames Stiles…and he blames you…" I heard myself whisper.

Scott's eyes finally fixated on me, and I stared back as long as possible before tears began to blur my vision. Before the tears could fall on my lap, Scott wrapped his arms around me in a warm embrace. I noticed then that this was the height of physical comfort between myself and Scott. Our friendship seemed to be cemented and created through Allison, but now that we didn't have Allison to keep us together, our relationship became dependent on each other.

Scott whispered into my shoulder "He can't know Lydia…Stiles can't know what Ethan said…" And that's when I felt Scott's tears fall onto the shoulder of my shirt. My arms slowly reached up and laid them on Scott's back. We stayed that way until I remembered what I was going to do before Scott arrived. I told Scott that I had someone to call and he nodded apologetically. I rose from the bed, subconsciously straightened out the creases in my shirt and sadly smiled at Scott before I bent down and placed a kiss on Stiles' cold cheek. Right as I reached the door frame, Scott's soft voice called out to me again-

"Lydia…did you know?"

I didn't turn around, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

"Before it happened? Did you know when she was going to die? Before it happened?"

Still not turning around, I whispered so softly, no human could hear it.

"Yes. I knew." I said, and with that I descended the stairs and walked outside on the lawn, feeling the crisp night air hit my face. I pulled out my phone and looked over that name one more time before I pushed myself to finally touch the screen and pull up the phone to my ear. He picked up in 2 rings.

"Lydia?"

"…Jackson…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Would love to get some more reviews to know if I should continue this story. I've got the story mapped out and hopefully I can get a good number of chapters up. 
> 
> Love you all xx  
> Argo Lane


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

SCOTT

It was 4:00am. It had been 6 and a half hours since Stiles had passed out after we killed the Nogitsune. Deaton said that it could be weeks before he wakes up. I didn't have a few weeks. I needed Stiles. Now more than ever.

The dark void that planted itself inside me after we sacrificed ourselves to the Nemeton was more noticeable and painful than it had ever been. Out of all the pain I endured, this kind of pain could not be extracted or healed by werewolf super-healing. The weight of it was a burden, and there was an ever-present ache burrowed deep in my chest. Is this what it feels like to have everything taken away from you?

It didn't matter how many times I knew I would be assured that none of what happened was my fault, but I couldn't help but think that way. Although, Ethan had already validated it, I wasn't going to allow Stiles to think that he was responsible for anything that happened. How could he? He was possessed for God's sake!

I thought back to all the full moons Stiles pulled me through and his relenting friendship when it came to figuring this whole werewolf thing out. I thought back to the night where I doused myself in gasoline, ready to leave the world before Stiles talked me out of it, volunteering himself to go with me if I went through with it. I can still smell the fuel on my body.

I thought back to the night where I woke up to the sound of my phone buzzing at three in the morning, Stiles' name lighting up the screen and his voice, shaky and absolutely terrified on the other end, begging Scott to find him. I thought back to the MRI room, Stiles holding onto me like a life-line, with the threat of terminal dementia looming over us like the Angel of Death.

My phone buzzed and I fished it out of my pocket to see an incoming call from my mom. I quickly swiped the answer bar and held the phone up to my ear,

"Mom?"

"Scott? Oh, honey thank god…where are you? Is everyone ok?"

"I'm at the house. I'm ok, but…"

"I know, Derek's here. Isaac just left to take Kira home. They told me what happened. I'm sure Stiles is going to be ok, honey…"

"…what's everyone there for?"

"Isaac and Kira came to tell me what happened. Derek brought a body to the morgue…he said that it was Ethan's brother…"

I didn't say anything, my hand subconsciously running itself through my hair.

"Scott…are you sure you're ok, sweetie?"

No, I wasn't. But-

"I'm fine, Mom."

"We'll talk later. I have to go, honey. I won't be home till the morning. The hospital wants me here to look after wounded patients. Call me if anything happens or if you need something. Promise me?

"I promise, Mom."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

I let the phone stay to my ear until the end tone sounded. I let it clatter to the kitchen counter as I pressed my hands to my face, hopelessly trying to massage the exhaustion out of my eyes. I haven't slept in nearly 24 hours. Sleep had become obsolete, almost as much as school work had. The supernatural had stolen my life. The life I had before I received the bite. My normal life.

Lost in my thoughts, I trudged myself up the stairs to my room, not even remembering why I was downstairs in the first place, and went into the bathroom. I stripped off my clothes, tossed them in the wastebasket, and stepped into the shower.

I can't remember the last time a shower gave me so much comfort. I relished the feeling of hot water rinse down my hair, my chest, legs, and down the drain. My muscles felt like jelly and my legs ached from overuse. I let myself melt into a sitting position in the bath tub, bringing my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs, letting my head rest on them. Something I've rarely done. The water continued to douse me in warm comfort. I can't remember the last time a shower gave me so much comfort.

…

KIRA

I pointed out a house at the end of a cul-de-saq to Isaac, letting him know it was mine. He pulled up to the curb and shifted the car into park. I smiled apologetically to him.

"Thanks, Isaac."

He nodded, "Take care of yourself, Kira."

I nodded back and let myself out of the car, giving Isaac one more glance before I swung the car door shut. I watched the car veer off back onto the main road before I sighed and planted myself on the grass, not ready to go back inside and face my parents. I pulled out my phone and quickly dialed his number.

Ringing, ringing, ringing…

Hey, you've reached Scott…

A disappointed, yet uncharacteristic sigh huffed out from my lips.

…Leave me a message and I'll call you back soon.

I ended the call before the voicemail could start. I was worried about him…and Stiles…and everyone, really. But I don't think a voicemail was the best way to do that. Yet, swallowing just a little of my pride, I typed several messages into the text bar before I finally settled on-

Call me back soon. Want to know if everything's ok.

…

ISAAC

My foot became lead as it weighed down on the accelerator. She was on my mind. Again. The pain of her memory broke my heart, over and over again. I remember watching the Oni's blade run right through her. I watched her crumple to the ground in Scott's arms…I can practically hear Lydia's scream…

So, what are you going to do, Isaac? Are you just going to speed up and close your eyes and hope you crash into a tree? Why? You'll just heal. No point. Are you going to steal a wolfs bane bullet from Argent and shoot yourself? No. You know you don't have the willpower. You can't even last a minute in a broom closet. You have your dad to thank for that.

I pulled over next to a clearing and made for the woods without even bothering to shut the car door.

Fog collected at my feet and the cool night air passed through my lungs, effectively drying up my throat. My eyes instinctively turned yellow so as to adjust to the dark contrast of the woods. The tall, black trees encroached me and blocked what little moonlight shone that night. I looked up through the spider-like branches, thanking God I didn't have to deal with this pain on the night of a full moon.

I passed an alignment of trees that looked all to. familiar. Only a month ago did I stand here, hearing the sharp twang of a bow string and quickly catching Allison's stray arrow before it hit Lydia. I imagined her standing there, poised, donned in black as she raised her sleek, black bow, setting in another arrow, ready to take her next victim.

I don't remember the last time I mourned someone like this. Boyd and Erica were a huge loss, but this felt like someone had taken the will to live away from me.

I thought about Scott. How he, along with his mother, offered me a place to stay, a home…the only home where I felt safe. I remembered broaching the subject of going out with Allison for the first time to Scott. Even now, I smirked at the memory of him hurling me against the wall and Mrs. McCall telling us off, reminding us of her completely un-supernatural level of patience. Numbly, I typed a message to Scott, leding him the piece of mind that he didn't have to worry about me.

Hey. With Argent. Won't be home for awhile. Let me know if you need anything

I hate lying to him, but at this point I couldn't face him. I couldn't pretend to be ok. Not tonight. I pulled my knees up to my chest and buried my face in my arms, letting go all of the pain I could.

…

SCOTT

My fingers wiped away the condensation on the glass and I looked back into the mirror, barely recognizing the face that stared back at me. The face looked weathered; the youth that used to be etched into its features were hardly there, eroded away by the physical and emotional pain it endured for the past two years.

Wiping myself down, I pulled on some sweatpants and a short tee before I realized the screen of my phone lit up. There were three notifications…

Isaac (4:26am)

Hey. With Argent. Won't be home for awhile. Let me know if you need anything

Kira (4:15am)

Call me back soon. Want to know if everything's ok.

Kira (4:14am)

Missed Call (1)

Something stirred inside me when I read those notifications, knowing that there were these kind of people in his life, the kind of people that cared…it was even more comforting than that shower…and that's saying something.

I unlocked my phone and sent a quick text to Isaac, letting him know I got his message, then I punched Kira's name next, pressing the phone to my ear. The called picked up after the second ring

"Scott?"

"Hey."

"Are you ok?"

"As ok as I can be."

"Fair enough."

There was a pause. I listened to Kira's breathing before I remembered how to actually not be awkward over the phone.

"Are you ok?"

"Me? I mean…I don't know. I don't know really know how I am. I was just worried about you."

"Fair enough."

Are you kidding me? Did you really just say "fair enough?" I face-palmed myself for making everything even more awkward than it already was.

"Ok…well…I'll see you…soon?" The hesitancy in her voice so painfully evident.

"Yeah…I'll see you-"

My voice immediately cut off. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. A heartbeat, steadily climbing in pace and intensity from my room. I dropped the phone to the tile floor, hastily yanking the bathroom door open in terror as an all too familiar scream pierced my ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love cliffhangers :P
> 
> xx  
> Argo Lane


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

STILES

The blank Go game board was looking up at me. Several of the playing pieces were scattered around the wood of Nemeton and my feet. I looked behind me, half expecting him to still be standing there, whispering promises of chaos, strife, and pain…The white walls surrounded me, in what seemed to be a corner-less continuum of white with no foreseeable end.

Stiles…

"No…"

Stiles…

"You're gone. You're dead…"

Dead in the physical. But alive in your memories…

"I killed you…We killed you…"

You can't kill the memories…

"What do you want."

I want you…to answer this riddle…

"No…no more riddles…"

A nightmare for some…

"Stop…"

But for others, a savior I come…

"Please…no more…"

My hands, cold and bleak…

"Leave me alone…"

Seek out the warm hearts…what am I?

"…I don't know…"

Of course you do…I know your mind, and my riddle is simple enough…what is the answer, Stiles?

"I don't know…"

What am I?

"Please…"

What. Am. I.

"I d-"

WHAT AM I?

"…death…"

The ground beneath my feet gave way and my gut wrenched as I was free-falling. Out of nowhere, the Nogitsune gripped my arms, pulling me towards it's bared silver fangs as it roared into my face. I can't move. The only thing I can do is scream…

 

SCOTT

Stiles' scream reverberated off the bedroom walls, echoing horribly in my head. His eyes were clenched shut, his limbs were flailing in terror, twisting themselves in the bed sheets. I grabbed hold onto his arms, trying to keep them from nailing me in the face. As soon as I made contact with his cold skin, I felt something hot and burning crawl up both of my arms. I glanced down and watched as my veins turned a tarry black, instantaneously leeching away Stiles' pain.

"Stiles! STILES!"

The leeching had no effect on Stiles. He still fought against my grip, no sense of relief came over his flailing body. Stiles wasn't only in pain. He was utterly terrified.

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO! I WON'T LET YOU HURT THEM! I WON'T LET YOU!"

"Stiles, it's me! Stiles! Open your eyes! It's me! It's Scott!"

Tears began to leak out of Stiles' still clenched shut eyes. He was shaking terribly, but his resistance seemed to falter.

"I can't…I won't let you hurt them…I won't let you hurt them…I won't hurt them…I won't…"

"Stiles…please, man…open your eyes…it's me…open your eyes…"

Stiles' arms stopped fidgeting altogether. I loosened my grip on his wrists as he slowly opened his eyes. He blinked up owlishly at me. His breathing was erratic and his whole body seemed to be consumed in tremors. "Scott?" he whispered. I smiled sadly at him and nodded. "Hey, man…it's ok…" I wiped the tears from his eyes, "It's ok…it's over."

Stiles gasped in breath after breath as he brought himself up into a sitting position, frantically looking around the room before he locked his eyes with me, his face glued to them for a only a couple of seconds before his hand flew up to his mouth, attempting to stifle a broken sob from escaping his lips. Without hesitation, I reached my arms over him and pulled his face into my chest, resting my head on top of his. Stiles' arms grabbed onto my mine with a vice grip and I held on even tighter, planting a kiss on his head, and squeezing my eyes shut, whispering sweet nothings to him and promising him that everything was ok…

...

 

DEREK

The hospital was quite possibly the worst place to be for a werewolf. You can hear all the miscellaneous exchanges between nurses and doctors and patients and receptionists. Around 100 heart monitors beeping in various tempi and frequencies. And the smells. It reeked of anxiety, pain, fear…smells that had become all too familiar over the past couple of weeks.

Needless to say I was only here when it was absolutely imperative for me to be.

The morgue was tinted a dingy green. The walls were lined in silver cabinets, storing already preserved cadavers…the stench of formaldehyde assaulted my nose.

I looked at Aiden's body laid down on the steel table that wheeled out from one of the storage units. The wound where the Oni thrust its sword into his abdomen was clean and his mouth was clear of any sign of the black blood that stained his lips and teeth only hours before. The only other sign of physical trauma were the burn marks I made to burn out the wolfsbane from the bullets. The story Melissa told the other doctors to explain his death and burn marks was…imaginative, to say the least.

The door creaked open and I looked over my shoulder to see Ethan standing in the threshold. I instantly tensed up, not expecting to have this confrontation so early. The chemo signals radiating off the ex-alpha mirrored the scents that wafted through the hospital, fear being the only exception…

Ethan never moved from the doorway. His eyes were locked on the body laid out in front of me. Only then did I realize how unwelcome I really was.

I muttered an apology and made an attempt to store Aiden's corpse back into the storage unit before Ethan finally spoke up in hoarse voice, "Don't…it's all right…" He finally left his place under the threshold and cautiously stepped towards where I was. His heart beating erratically. His eyes were glued to his twin's cadaver for what seemed like forever. I stood there awkwardly, not knowing whether to allow him some time alone or if somehow my presence was a comfort to him, no matter how small.

"I'm leaving Beacon Hills." he said in a shaky breath, "I don't think I can stay." I nodded, "That's understandable. No one would expect you to." Ethan subtly nodded his head back.

"I don't want a funeral. I don't think I could handle that. Do whatever you want with him. Cremate him…whatever…" I winced slightly at the hurt that was evident in his voice. With apparent hesitation, I rested a hand on his shoulder but decided against making eye contact, "It's not your fault, Ethan. You were doing what you thought was right…both of you were…you were fighting for Scott. I think that's maybe enough to even earn a spot in his pack. You don't have to leave Beacon Hills." Even as it left my mouth I knew he wasn't having any of it. He shook his head. "Sherriff Stilinski needs you at the station…needs an account of what happened."

I sighed in resignation. I pulled my hand away from his shoulder and held it out in front of me towards Ethan, "Goodbye." Ethan looked at the hand hesitatingly before he reached out his own and grasped my hand and gave it a solid shake. I nodded and made my way towards the door into the hallway, trying my best to block out the stench of despair and the sound of crying emanating from the morgue room.

...

 

STILES

My throat was on fire and my eyes stung as I emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet. Even though Scott's aversion to any and all things concerning vomit was the equivalent to my intolerance of blood, he was still there, hand slowly massaging small circles on my back as my muscles tensed every few minutes, making the dull ache that encapsulated my body even more noticeable.

After a good 15 minutes of hurling, Scott flushed the toilet and placed his hands around my middle to help me get up. I shakily walked over to the sink and rinsed out the rancid taste of bile out of my mouth. It was then did I make the mistake of looking into the mirror.

My face was chalk white. There were dark rings encroaching my puffy eyes. The tremors rattling my body were visible. I reached under the hem of my shirt and pulled it up, revealing even paler skin and a visible rib cage. Both signs of fatigue and malnourishment. I let out a scoff, not even remembering the last time I ate something. I looked emaciated, I looked terrible.

I looked like shit.

I looked at Scott's reflection in the mirror, "What happened? I can't remember anything."

"He's gone. It worked. Right after the Nogitsune died, you fainted. I took you to Deaton's and he gave me these." He waved two medication bottles and held them out in front of him. I turned around and took them, immediately noticing the kinds of pills that rattled around in the capsules.

"I brought you back home and Lydia was already here. She wanted to make sure you were okay and…" his voice trailed off. I looked at Scott wringing his hands, his telltale sign of nervousness. There'd be only one other reason why Lydia would make a trip all the way to the house.

"Who else. Who else did I kill?"

"Stiles, you didn't k-"

"Who's gone, Scott." wincing at the small hint of hostility that lined my voice.

There was a long pause,

"Aiden. Lydia didn't tell me how or what exactly happened. But, it was Aiden."

I scoffed again, never imagining that one of the twins' death would have such a negative effect on me or Scott. We were never on respectable terms with the pair of omegas, yet, it was an unnecessary loss all the same. I turned back to the mirror, keeping my head down and away from Scott's gaze. Another long pause.

"Are you ok?" Scott asked, his voice sounding a million miles away. I nodded, knowing that if I verbalized my answer Scott would pick up the uptick of my heart, because I was the farthest thing from ok. He didn't seem to buy it…I didn't expect him to.

"Stiles, you know none of this was your fault, right?"

"Is that so?" I said as I passed Scott on shaky legs back into his bedroom, suddenly finding the bathroom to be ten times smaller than it really was. Scott followed me insistently, "Yes, of course it wasn't. You didn't have any control over what you were doing, how could you possibly think it's your fault?"

I shook my head, "You don't get it, Scott." I said harshly, shifting my hands through the bed sheets looking for my car keys.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for my keys, do you have them?" I said, holding my hand out expectedly. Scott looked at me incredulously, "Are you kidding me? There's no way I'm letting you drive tonight. Especially in this state. Besides, your dad's not even home, he's stuck at the station and I don't want to leave you alone."

I kept searching the sheets, annoyed at the fact I knew that they were probably in Scott's pocket. "I can handle myself, Scott. I'm fine, I'm okay." Even I knew how stupid I was being, but, try as I might, I still couldn't look him in the eyes.

"Stiles, stop for a minute. Look at me." Scott said, with obvious assertion lacing his voice. I ignored him, overturning the pillows.

"Stiles."

I went over to Scott's discarded jacket on the floor and searched the pockets.

"STILES." I froze at the faint growl that underscored my name. I turned to him, just as the red started to fade from his eyes. The tension was palpable as we waited for the other to say something. My breaths slowly became more erratic. I looked at my shaking hands and felt a vice grip around my lungs. It wasn't a panic attack. I've had enough of them to distinguish what was a panic attack and what was just a result of unaddressed emotional trauma. My hands flew up to my hair as I started to teeter back and forth on my feet. I turned my back to Scott, still not having the courage to hold his stare. I can only imagine what kind of chemosignals Scott was picking up. I heard him sigh, seeming to notice the sudden shift in my demeanor.

"Stiles, I'm sorry…"

"I killed her Scott."

I finally said it. The atmosphere suddenly became heavy and almost unbearable.

"I killed her. I killed Aiden. It's my fault."

I was waiting for Scott to say something, but he said nothing. I took a couple more breaths, suddenly finding it almost impossible to breath normally.

"Those people that died at the hospital…for most of them, my face was the last face they saw before they died. I wasn't there. But I could feel it. I could feel them passing over. I could feel the Nogitsune thriving on their pain. I felt all of it, Scott…and I couldn't stand it…"

I stood there, facing the wall, letting tears fall down my face without wiping them away. The lump in my throat swelled.

"It's my fault, Scott. The Nogitsune was looking for a host. It couldn't be you, or Lydia, or Isaac…it was me because it knew I couldn't resist it. It knew that I was human and it knew that I couldn't fight back…I remember twisting the Oni's katana when one of them stabbed you. I remember the look of horror on all of the people faces I killed at the hospital. I remember…everything. I shouldn't be alive, Scott. I shouldn't have made it…I wish I hadn't."

My throat closed up and I couldn't talk anymore. I took a deep breath, feeling the lump in my throat swelling up to twice its size. The dull ache that radiated from the center of my body seemed to be diminished, only being replaced with the weight of guilt and frustration.

"You can't possibly think…that I blame you for everything the Nogitsune did." Scott said. The thick sound of his voice was apparent. I turned to him to see that he was crying.

"You can't possibly think that I blame you…for her death…" he whispered.

"I blame myself. I'm the reason…that she's gone…" I murmured.

"Stiles…"

"You don't know what it felt like, Scott." I said. "You don't what it was like to feel my hands and body doing those things. Scott, I hurt you. I twisted a sword while it was inside of you."

"But Stiles, I healed. It doesn't matter."

"It does matter! You don't get it, Scott!"

"Stiles, I do! I know-"

"No, you don't! I could've killed you! I COULD'VE LOST YOU!"

Without thinking, I whipped my hand across the top of Scott's dresser and knocked over all of the various pictures and books that laid there, sending them crashing to the ground, even shattering a few of the glass picture frames. My voice rang in the room. My blood felt like it was boiling. I wasn't angry at Scott. I was angry at myself. My weakness. The entire reason why all of those people died. Because I was weak.

"Stiles do you know how many times I thought I lost you in the last week alone? Hell, even the last 12 hours? I thought we'd never make it out of this. Noshiko said the only way to free you was to kill you along with the Nogitsune. Do you know how hard that was to hear? If there's anyone that doesn't get it, it's you, Stiles. You don't know how important you are to people. You don't know how important you are to me."

The words echoed in my head. You don't know how important you are to people. I looked at my feet to see the edge of a photograph peeking out from under Scott's history textbook. I bent down and picked it out of its cracked frame. It was a picture of Scott and I, when we were still in middle school. We were donning our lacrosse uniforms, sticks in hand and arms over one another's shoulders, smiling goofily at whoever was taking the picture. Of all the times I've been in Scott's house, I've never even noticed that he still had this photograph. I glanced at the miniscule date stamp in yellow in the bottom right corner: 11/14/09. Scott's words rang again in my ear…you don't know how important you are to me.

I turned back to him. He hadn't moved. Tears were still pouring down his face. Never in a million years did I ever want to see my best friend like that. Never.

"I thought I was never going to see you again." Scott said in a broken sob. For the first time that night, I plucked up the courage to lock eyes with Scott. All the pain that I saw in my own eyes when I looked in the mirror reflected the pain I saw in his. We were both in pain. Both shattered…maybe beyond repair. We've always picked up the pieces for each other, but now, we were both broken…

I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around Scott's back, burying my face into his shoulder as he did the same. It was a tight embrace, reminiscent of the one we had in the MRI room. We held onto each other as if our lives depended on it and yet…in a way it almost did. We melted into the hug, releasing all the mental and physical agony we've suffered because of the Nogitsune. We crumpled to our knees onto the ground, not willing or strong enough to keep ourselves up anymore.

Something about the way we buried our faces into each others shoulders, crying into them…it was a level of intimacy we haven't had to partake in in a long time. Scott's been the only one I could trust for as long as I can remember. He was there for when my mom died, from all the panic attacks that followed. Scott wasn't just my best friend. Scott was my brother.

I tried to shield out all of the memories, all of the life threatening instances that we've encountered in our time with the supernatural. The Alpha, the Kanima, Deucalion and the Darach. The amount of times Scott has put himself in danger for, not just me, but the well being of others, was…unheard of. I didn't realize it until this very moment but…my best friend was a hero. At the thought, I somehow held on even tighter, and Scott did the same.

"Please don't leave…please don't leave, Scott…" I said in a low voice.

"I will never leave you, Stiles, I promise… I love you, man…" he whispered. I lifted my head up and rested my chin on his shoulder, noticing through my wet eyes a small shimmer of morning light peeking through the blinds on the windows.

"I love you, too." I whispered back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys.
> 
> Ok. Full disclosure: this was an extremely challenging chapter to write. Stiles' inner dialogue was very daunting to write but I really hope I managed to make it seem realistic and I also wanted to really focus on Scott and Stiles' relationship as well. I hope I served these two justice.
> 
> The talk is over, but don't go anywhere! There's a lot more angst, friendship and pack feels to come!
> 
> As always, leave a review and let me know what you guys think! Chapter 6 is on it's way!
> 
> Love you guys-
> 
> Argo Lane


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

DEREK

The evening light shimmered through the branches of the tall dark trees as I made my way back to the loft, taking a shortcut through the woods. My back was sore from spending hours upon hours in a hard, uncomfortable bench at the Sheriff’s station. I told Stilinski what really happened and what needed to go down in the police report, remembering to include the slightly more realistic aspects of Melissa’s account of events she told to the doctors at the hospital. Argent was also there, only it was unclear as to why. He walked out of the station the same time I walked in and we only exchanged a nod of recognition before going our separate ways.

The sun was still out but the air was turning slightly colder and more frigid. I kept walking, ignoring like l always do the fact the burned out mansion was so close by, waiting to be visited. It was only until I passed a grove of trees that served as a barrier between the lacrosse field and the rest of the forest did I pick up a familiar scent; a scent that was coupled with the pungent odor of grief and despair. I ran towards it, following my nose rather than my eyes. It only took a couple of sprints until I found what I was looking for.

“Isaac.”

He slowly raised his head to look at me. Isaac’s face was pale from the cold, his eyes puffy and breathing shallow; he looked like he had been there for a while.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t find me.” he sighed.

…

 

SCOTT

The first thing I noticed when I slowly came to was the unusual amount of sunlight that filled my room and a somewhat heavy weight that was laying against my side. As I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, I noticed I wasn’t in my bedroom at all. I was on the living room couch, which sort of explained why the room was full of sunlight and not usually peeking out behind the curtains drawn on my bedroom windows. 

I peered at the clock on the wall that read 4:39 and remembered that Stiles and I had come downstairs to watch some TV together last night, owing to the fact that we just couldn’t sleep, try as we did. I glanced down to my left and realized that Stiles was slumped up against me, his arms at an awkward angle and his mouth slightly open. I smiled fondly, remembering when we were younger and how we used to waste away the night in front of the Playstation and wake up at an obscenely late hour, tangled up in a pile of limbs.

I stroked Stiles’ arm, slowly waking him up. “Stiles…wake up, man.” 

His eyes blinked open and he rubbed a knuckle in them. Stiles looked at me and sighed, “Morning.”

“Evening actually, it’s almost 5:00.”

“God, really?”

“Yeah. Sleep okay?”

“I had a werewolf for a pillow, what do you think.”

I would’ve laughed or playfully punched him in the shoulder if his voice wasn’t lacking the trademark sarcasm that usually accompanied Stiles’ retorts.

Stiles was making no effort to get up so we laid there for awhile, just relishing each other’s company. Even though we got nearly 12 hours of sleep, my bones still ached with exhaustion; I can only imagine how tired Stiles was.

“I’m gonna go shower.” he murmured. I adjusted myself so Stiles could get up but it was only until he swung his feet over to the floor when he looked at me shyly, “Can you, um…” he said, “Can you, help me?” he wavered on the last word. Without hesitation, I stood up and offered an arm to Stiles. Once he was on his feet, I pinned my arm around his middle, making sure he didn’t stagger. Making our way up to the steps was tedious and I could sense Stiles’ frustration. His whole body seemed to be shivering and his legs moved like there were cinderblocks tied to them, but the more he moved, the more mobile he became. By the time we got to the top landing Stiles assured me that he could make it the rest of the way. I watched him over my shoulder warily until he made it to the bathroom and I went back downstairs into the kitchen.

There was a note on the kitchen table and I immediately recognized my mother’s handwriting.

Scott-

Left you and Stiles some dinner in the fridge. I won’t be home until late, hospital is still a wreck. John’s coming by later tonight after his shift to check on Stiles. Look after him.

Mom

No sooner had I finished reading the note did I hear three sharp knocks on the door. I immediately picked up a familiar scent and a pair of heartbeats from the other side. Hesitantly, I grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. 

Derek stood in the threshold, half-carrying Isaac against his shoulder. “Oh my god, come in, come in…” I stuttered. I stood aside and let Derek halfway drag Isaac into the living room and sit him down on the spot Stiles and I were just laying on. I noticed how gingerly Derek was acting with Isaac and was slightly appalled when he took a blanket that was draped over an arm chair and wrapped it around Isaac’s frame. Derek’s never been one to show this kind of compassion.

“I found him in the woods, just outside the lacrosse field. I think he’s been there since last night…” Derek whispered, letting Isaac’s eyelids flutter before finally closing, leading him into a deep sleep. 

“Stiles is awake.” he noted. It was more of a statement than a question. He must’ve picked up his scent and the sound of the shower running.

“He woke up around 12 hours ago.” I said.

“Is he ok?” 

“I don’t know…as ok as he’s allowing himself to be.”

Derek sighed. “He thinks it’s his fault.” Again, a statement rather than a question.

“I told him it wasn’t. We talked last night…”

“Figured you two would….are you ok?” Derek asked. 

My eyes wandered over to the sleeping beta on the couch, already knowing why Isaac was out in the woods for so long, why he still radiated a hint of grief…

“I’m fine.” I lied, forgetting that Derek could pick up whether or not someone was telling the truth. I’m a terrible liar. 

He locked eyes with me and I swore I saw a hint of blue peeking out from them. “It’s ok not to be.” Derek said. All I could do was nod. I was still taken aback at how concerned he seemed to be about the whole situation, about Isaac and me and Stiles of all people. It was a side of Derek Hale that I haven’t seen, but it was definitely a side that I liked. 

He clapped me on the shoulder and made his way over to the kitchen, peering at the note on the table, opening the fridge and extracting a Tupperware of lasagna, spooning chunks of it onto a couple of plates. 

Derek was halfway through preparing a third plate when his ear pricked. He paused and turned to me, subtly cocking his head upstairs. “You might want to go check on him.” Before I could ask why, I could already hear the faint sound of Stiles unleashing a string of expletives from the shower in my room. I climbed the steps swiftly, two at a time and walked into my room, resting my head against the bathroom door.

“Stiles?”

There was no reply. The sound of the running shower kept going but Stiles’ heart rate jumped and his breathing could be heard over the sound of running water.

“Stiles, are you alright?” I tried again. Still no reply.

“I’m coming in, ok?” I waited for a reply and when there wasn’t one, I crack the door open and walked into the steam filled room. Stiles’ clothes were in a jumble on the floor next to the bathtub and the mirror had already fogged up.

“Stiles, are you ok? You gotta say something, man…”

“I’m fine. I just…” His voice was cut off as Stiles took in a raspy breath. I began to slightly panic, internally wrestling with myself on what I should do.

“What’s wrong?”

“I c-can’t get up…Scott, I can’t stand up…I dropped the shampoo and I dropped to my knees to get it and I can’t get up…I can’t-”

“Stiles, it’s ok…it’s all right, just…I can help you, but I have to…”

“It’s ok…I don’t mind…” Stiles said between breaths.

“Ok, all right, just grab onto my hands and I’ll help pull you up, ok?”

“All right.”

I pulled aside the curtain and held out my arms to Stiles. Seeing each other naked wasn’t anything new, but for his sake, I tried my best to look away whenever I could. I felt two wet hands grasp my forearms and I let Stiles use my arms to gain some balance. It took him almost the full minute before he could get back on his feet.

“I’m sorry.” He croaked.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” I said, “It’s alright, man.” 

Stiles nodded and switched off the water before asking for a towel. I grabbed a shirt and a pair of sweatpants from the dresser and handed them to Stiles. He took them and whispered a murmur of thanks before slipping them on. After he clothed himself, I kneeled down to where he sat himself on the edge of the bathtub so that I could look at his face.

“Are you ok? And before you answer that, take into an account that I’m a walking lie detector.” I said, slightly forcing a humorous tone into the last couple of words.

Stiles looked at me dolefully, mouth shaping and reshaping, trying to form the right words. After a good minute and a half he seemed to have given up and resorted to burying his face in his hands. 

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, look at me…you don’t have to answer, just look at me.” I gently tried to pry his hands from his face. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just… Everything still kind of hurts. I still feel like he’s there.” Stiles whispered. I looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, “What do you mean?”  
“I don’t know, just…I’m still having a little trouble figuring out what’s real and what’s not.” 

I nodded, knowing exactly what to do. “That’s ok,” I said, “Look at me and we’ll find out.” I held up one index finger to show him and Stiles slowly removed his hands away from his face. “You said you have extra fingers if you’re dreaming,” I said with encouragement, “Here’s one…” I gestured with my index finger and held up my middle finger along with the first.

“Two.”

Ring finger.

“Three.”

Pinky.

“Four”

Thumb.

“Five.”

I repeated the same action with my right hand.

“Six…seven…eight…nine…ten…” he finished with a sigh. I placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it a little, “This is real. I’m here, I’ve got you.” I said and, as an afterthought, I added, “It’s ok not to be ok.” 

Look at me. Taking a leaf out of Derek’s book for once. It seemed to have worked since Stiles nodded apologetically and seemed to summon a bit of strength before I helped him make his way back downstairs.

…

 

STILES

Despite how much I usually love Melissa’s cooking, the plate of steaming lasagna that sat in front of me did nothing more than completely make me lose what was left of my appetite. I was afraid I was going to barf out whatever I tried to put in my mouth. My stomach turned at the thought and I pushed the food away, earning a confused look from Derek and Scott, already halfway through their portions.

“Stiles, you have to eat something.” Derek said pointedly. I tried to wave it off, “I know, I’m just…not hungry.” I murmured. Scott nudged me with his elbow, “When was the last time you ate something?” he said. 

“Some tea Kira’s mom gave me two nights ago.”

“Stiles, you haven’t eaten in two days?”

“Nights.” I corrected him, wondering how on earth that was any better.

Derek got up from his chair, abandoning his half-eaten lasagna, “I’ll make you some tea and a slice of toast. You need to get something in your system, you look like you’re on the brink of death.”

“Thanks, Derek.” I muttered, not even having the energy to mention how many times Derek had been on the brink of death himself. 

The doorbell rang and Derek made his way to the foyer to get it. Scott’s head perked up as he picked up the voice of the visitor. He looked at me with wide eyes but before I could ask, my dad came into view. His face immediately broke into a sort of faint shock, probably owing to the fact I look like a walking corpse. I screeched the chair out from under the table and I staggered over to him, meeting him halfway before he grabbed me into a tight bear hug. I clenched my eyes shut, letting the fact that I, non-possessed Stiles, was reunited with my pop. And, at the moment, I let that be the only thing that mattered.

It was only until I broke away from my dad’s arms did I realize that he didn’t come alone. Lydia was there, looking more than beautiful than ever, but who was standing next to her dumbfounded me even more. At first I thought I was dreaming but then I realized it was all too real. Standing in front of me, Beacon Hills’ ex-kanima:

Jackson Whittemore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves!
> 
> I wanted to give you guys this chapter a little ahead of time because I anticipate my schedule to be slightly busier than usual so I want to give you guys Chapter 7 on time (and in good quality).
> 
> Also, just wanted to address an Anonymous review and answer a couple of questions. Here’s what they said:
> 
> Hi I was wondering whether you'd go into two things in your story? One of them Jeff confirmed it wasn't because Stiles was weak the Nogitsune chose him, it was actually because it believed Stiles was like a trickster. It believed him to be simpler to it. And the fact Stiles said he enjoyed feeling powerful and I'm control of situations when he was possessed to Malia in season 4? Because that would be interesting to look into as I don't think Stiles has ever told Scott that..,
> 
> Excellent points Anon. As I mentioned before, my fic is semi canon and, while I do realize that Jeff Davis pointed this out, I wanted to use the original idea of the Nogitsune possessing Stiles owing to the fact it knew he couldn’t fight back because I think it adds another layer to Stiles’ grief and emotional turmoil and, while I am not saying that this idea is the ultimate reason in my story, Stiles certainly seems to think this is the case. As far as Stiles enjoying the power the Nogitsune gave him, I’m still finding it hard to buy even though it’s canon (season 4 has always been iffy for me in terms of character points). I may use it or I may not. I’m still messing around with ideas but thank you for bringing up those two things Anon!
> 
> As always, please please please leave some reviews to let me know what you think! You all are my inspiration!


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

SCOTT

“Jackson?”

I couldn’t believe who was standing in front of me. We stared at each other, feeling out the situation. He was visibly uncomfortable, but there was a new air about him. He was a little more muscular and his hair seemed a little darker than what I remember. 

Our relationship was, for a lack of a better word, confusing. We weren’t enemies, so were we friends? I looked at Lydia, looking for any sign of what to do but her eyes seemed to be flicking back between Jackson and I, just as unsure as I was.

Before I could say anything else, Jackson stepped forward and pulled me into a hug. It was stiff and somewhat awkward, but the feeling and the legitimacy of the gesture was there. Eventually I worked up the courage to rest my arms on his back.

“Lydia told me what happened…I flew in this afternoon…I’m sorry, Scott.”

I patted him on the back, taken aback at how much Jackson had changed. He actually gave a damn about people now. Who knew?

“Thank you, Jackson.” I whispered.

We broke apart and Jackson walked over to Stiles who, before Jackson could raise up his arms for an embrace, held out an open hand, letting him know a handshake was good enough for him. 

 

…

“My parents sent me to London thinking that my unusual behavior was due to stress and anxiety about school and Lacrosse. They had me stay with a family friend as a sort of vacation but, a couple of months later when I tried to come back, they had moved from the house. They abandoned me, wanting nothing to do with me anymore.”

Jackson stood in the center of the room with Derek, brooding in the corner of the living room, Isaac and Lydia, who took seats on the armchair, and Stiles who was slumped against the couch next to Sheriff and I. It had gotten dark and Lydia finished Derek’s pot of tea and made enough for everyone to nestle warm mugs of it in their hands.

“After I found out, I ran away from where I was staying. A couple of days later, this Alpha named Otsoko found me by scent wandering the streets at night. He asked me where I came from and when I told him I was from Beacon Hills, he seemed to know where I was talking about. He asked me if I knew a Dr. Valack but…”

“So are you in a pack?” Isaac said abruptly.

Jackson nodded.

“And they let you just come here?” I said.

Derek spoke up from his corner, “There’s a different pack mentality in Europe. Alphas there are not as possessive about their Betas as much they are here in America.”

“I didn’t even know there were other packs in Europe.” Stiles said.

“Oh, yeah,” Jackson said, “There’s a good number of them and they’ve been around longer than in America, dating back to before the Monarchy. But, regardless, while Otsoko is letting me visit, I’m only here for a while. I’ve got to go back to London after the funeral.”

My heart skipped a beat, completely forgetting about a funeral. An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Lydia cleared her throat and spoke in a small whisper, “Argent’s having it in a couple of weeks. January 25th, Saturday at noon.” 

I nodded, discreetly pinching the bridge of my nose to stop the wave of emotion I was feeling.

We all sat around, sipping our tea. I got the feeling that everyone was trying to adjust to the sudden shift from life and death situations to sitting around in a living room, safe and not in any imminent mortal danger.

Isaac switched on the TV but no one was really watching it. Instead, my ear was impulsively set on Stiles’ heartbeat without me thinking about it, subtly assuring myself that he was okay. The sun was setting and Stiles was dozing in and out of consciousness before he gave in and let himself fall asleep and Sheriff draped a blanket over him

After a while, Lydia, Jackson and Derek left with a few goodbyes and Isaac took up a bed in the armchair. Me and Sheriff were the only ones left awake before he too got up from the chair with a great huff and looked down at Stiles before he turned to me, “Do you think he can stay here for a couple of days?”

“Oh…yeah, no, of course.” I said immediately.

“It’s just that, we still have a lot of cleaning up to do in regards to the hospital and Aiden’s death report and I’m not going to be home enough to look out for him. I’ll bring over his pillow tomorrow but it looks like he’s okay for tonight.”

I nodded and my eyes glanced over to Stiles, snoring softly on the couch.

“Either way…I think you two are going to need each other for the next couple of days, anyways...” Sheriff said, somewhat morosely. Again I nodded, finding it to be too much effort to get a word out still for whatever reason. Sheriff clapped me on the back and head out the door, leaving me with Stiles. 

I glanced blurrily at the clock and saw it was only a quarter to 10. Even if I was only awake but for five hours, I still felt exhausted. I don’t think I’ve even allowed myself the time to come to terms with what has happened but then again neither has anyone else. 

Not too long after the Sheriff left, I hooked my arms under Stiles’ neck and legs and carried him up the stairs to my room. I laid him on one side of the bed, covering him with the same wool blanket I always kept on the sheets and then I plopped down on the other side and laid my head down on the pillow, listening to Stiles’ breathing before I let myself drift off to sleep…

…

STILES

It was pouring rain. I saw the Oni appearing from all sides, surrounding Kira, Scott and I. Kira unsheathed her katana while Scott transformed, claws out and eyes ruby red. The pair of them went after an Oni at a time while I ran to the doors of the Animal Clinic. I pulled them by the handles but they wouldn’t budge. I looked around for the spare key Deaton kept near the door before I heard a guttural sound come from behind me. I whipped around and Scott, facing away from me, staggered back with one of the Oni’s blade protruding out of his back. I ran to him and clamped my hand on Scott’s shoulder to whirl him around. When I did, I didn’t see his face…I saw Allison’s…her black hair in a tousled mess that hung over her face, which was frozen in shock as she stared down at the sword that had impaled her. Lydia’s scream echoed in my head and Allison crumpled to the ground. The Nogitsune stood behind her, making me jump back as it reached a hand to my neck and forced my head down to look at Allison, in a crumpled heap, dying in Scott’s arms…

“Look what we did, Stiles…look at what you did…” the demon whispered in my ear. I shook my head trying to look away, “No...I didn’t do this…this was you. This was you. This wasn’t me.”

Allison took her last breath and her open hand fell to the ground. Scott bent over her, shaking and crying, trying to hold on to what was left of his first love. I tried to get his attention, throat already constricting, “Scott…Scott, I’m sorry…I’m sorry…” The Nogitsune let go of me and before I could run to Scott, to try to get to him, there was an explosion of light and all I could see was white. I was lying on something soft but uneven. I looked around me and was met with the sight of a pair of lifeless eyes meeting my own. I was lying on bodies, a dozen of them. All of them covered in blood and unmoving, sprawled across the top of the Nemeton, the life drained out of them. Derek…Isaac…Lydia…Melissa…Dad…and Scott. 

Before I knew it, I let out a scream so loud that it seemed to shake the entire world. I felt everything become unstable, everything shifting and shaking. My world was collapsing..

...

I was screaming and my ears were ringing unbearably. The white, blinding light was gone and everything was dark. I clenched my eyes shut, not wanting to meet whatever horror that awaited me. 

There was something holding me back, something that was clenched around my chest. I tried to fight it. I kicked and punched, hoping that I would hit it. It’s him. He’s back…and he’s got me trapped…I can’t break free… I can’t break free…

 

“STILES! STILES!”

The voice wasn’t the Nogitsune’s, but I couldn’t make it out, my ears were still ringing.

“It’s me…It’s me…” the voice said.

Scott. It was Scott’s voice. I stopped fighting and opened my eyes and looked down at Scott’s arms holding me around my chest. I breathed heavily, coming to terms to where I was. In Scott’s bed…in his house…next to him…it wasn’t real…it wasn’t real…

I held on to his arms like my life depended on it and felt my body shake with sobs. My chest tightened, my throat closed up and I was in a full-fledged panic attack. I couldn’t stop it…it was all too real. Scott held me tighter and closer, trying to calm me down but everything felt so unstable, even with Scott there, all I could do was hang on to him and try to calm down.

“You have to breath, Stiles…you have to breathe, man.”

“I-I…c…can’t…Sc-cott…”

“Come on, man…you can do it…you’ve gotten through enough of these before you can do it again.” he whispered

My head started pounding and the vice around my chest only seemed to grow tighter. I couldn’t do it…I couldn’t do it…

“I-I’m…I’m sorry…Scott, I-I’m sorry…”

“Stiles, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. It wasn’t you…it wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…”

“Stiles…

“Scott…I’m sorry…”

My breathing slowed down, the pressure in my chest lessened and my head suddenly became lighter. I knew Scott was siphoning my pain, but I was too tired to do anything about it. 

After a while, my breathing returned to normal and all that was left of the panic attack were residual twitches in my limbs. Scott still held onto me but his grip was significantly looser. I felt his breath on the nape of my neck and the heat that radiated from his body, throwing into sharp relief the overall below average body temperature I had been acclimated to during the Nogitsune’s possession.

“Are you ok?” Scott whispered. I didn’t answer. Part of me was too weak to do so, the other part just didn’t want to, but I turned over so that we were both looking each other, laying down on our sides. Memories of countless sleepovers flooded my brain. Younger versions of us, the version that wasn’t completely overwhelmed by supernatural forces day in and day out, in this same bed, arguing over who would win in a fight or girls or lacrosse or completely typical teenage topics of conversations. It was a time that I knew was past us and it was a time that I would miss forever.

“Listen…” Scott began, “I know you still blame yourself. I know that you think you could’ve helped what happened. But Stiles, there was nothing you could’ve done. Do you get that?” he said softly. I nodded with hesitation, surprised that I was maybe facing the fact that what happened and the way it happened was inevitable.

“I don’t care what you think, Stiles, because I refuse to believe you purposefully hurt those people. That’s not who you are. You’re Stiles Stilinski. And I for one, can’t even begin to tell you how proud I am that you fought and beat this thing. You are stronger than you think, Stiles.”

I still couldn’t find the strength to formulate words, but all I could was manage a smile and a nod. Scott pulled me towards him and wrapped me in an embrace. I held on and hugged him back, not believing how I ever got this lucky to have Scott McCall as my best friend.

…

SCOTT

The weeks leading up to the funeral were by far the hardest. For all of us.

Lydia and Jackson made a point of stopping by almost everyday to make sure Stiles was doing okay and so did the Sheriff. Everything was finally getting sorted out at the Station but he didn’t want to make Stiles come back home because he knew it’d be best if he stayed here with me and a nurse on hand. Mom kept working late shifts but she was around long enough at home to check on Stiles and help him get his health back.

There was something missing in Stiles. My goofy, spastic best friend had been reduced to a hollow shell, traumatized by all the Nogitsune made him do and the pain the demon fox put him through. The glimmer in his eye was gone and anytime he tried to smile, he seemed to give up, knowing that it wasn’t sincere. 

Despite the obvious trauma, his appetite and pallor were slowly making a reappearance. The color in Stiles’ face was there, but not how it used to be and for the first couple of days, Stiles could only have tea and saltine crackers. Anything else, he would refuse to ingest. After awhile he started eating apples and slices of bread. Despite his claims that he didn’t need the pills Deaton gave him, Mom made sure he took every single one of them and was there to refill them when he ran out. He had to use a walking cane to get around, with several half-sarcastic comments to Sheriff about how he’d never though he’d need one before his old man did.

It got to the point where Stiles was reluctant to sleep alone. He kept protesting that he was happy to take the couch and that it was too imposing of him to steal half of my bed. (We all know how that conversation went.) 

He would scream himself awake almost every night, sending himself into a panic attack and all I could do was help him wait it out. He woke up every morning, distant and silent, reeking of embarrassment, despite my assurances that his reactions were completely normal.

Kira came over a handful of times, checking in on everyone, as did Derek and Argent, who Isaac seemed to be spending a lot of time with. Mom would come home to the house filled to the brim with visitors and take it in stride and make something to eat for all of us as we sat around the living room talking, trying our very hardest to ignore how quickly January 25th was creeping closer.

…

 

It was the night before the funeral. Stiles and I were on the couch and had just settled into a Parks and Rec Netflix binge. I was only half paying attention to what was happening because I could not for the life of me stop thinking the next day. I still didn’t make my mind up on whether or not I was going to say anything or whether I could even pull myself together to show up at all…

“What’s on your mind?” I heard Stiles say to my left. I looked at him, slightly surprised since Stiles rarely had the energy to start a conversation. He fixed his eyes to mine, “Are you ok?” he said.

“Yeah,” I sighed, “I’m just…” I trailed off and I looked into my lap, away from Stiles’ gaze. He reached the remote and paused the show.

“Thinking about tomorrow,” he said. I nodded slowly.

“What’re you thinking about?” Stiles asked, shifting himself on the couch so that he was facing me.

“I don’t know. I’m just…I’m not ready to see the coffin…I’m not ready to say goodbye.” I said softly.

Stiles rested a hand along the crook of my shoulder, “No matter what you do, you’re going to have to. You’re going to need that closure, Scotty.”

I nodded, all of a sudden finding it hard to form words.

“Take it from someone who knows…it’s not going to be easy. But it’s going to help you move on.” He said.

“I don’t want to forget her, Stiles.” I said, a lump already forming in my throat.

“I didn’t say you had to. Moving on doesn’t mean to forget, Scott. Moving on means you accept it, you learn from it, and you continue living your life.” he said in a low tone. I’ll never know how or when my best friend became so wise. 

Stiles squeezed the hand he had on my shoulder. “You don’t have to do this alone, Scott. You still have your mom, you still have Lydia, Isaac, hell, even Derek. You still got me.” he said.

“I had you before.” I heard myself say.

We met each other’s eyes and we smirked at each other. No matter how hard I try, I will never understand how I ever got this lucky to have Stiles Stilinski as my best friend.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone!
> 
> Thanks for hanging on and waiting for Chapter 7!
> 
> This chapter was almost as hard to write as Chapter 5 but, although it’s not as long as I would’ve liked it to be, I hope you all enjoyed it.
> 
> If anyone hasn’t sensed it already, this fic is slowly drawing to a close. I think I can fit the story into 3 more chapters, making it an even 10 chapter fic. But this certainly isn’t my last fic, oh nooooooooooo ;) ;)
> 
> I’m gonna let go of my humility here and shamelessly self promote my Tumblr (I know, I know, bear with me). I write little pieces on there from time to time if anyone might be interested (no one is, ok) But I would love to get asks or some messages if anyone has any questions about this story or fic writing in general (to which I will answer all of them). You can find me by my username: argolane
> 
> Oooooooooooor you can pick door number two and go to my side blog: Sciles is Love. Sciles is Life. (The title alone should tell you what goes on over there.)
> 
> Thank you, all for reading. As always, please please leave a review to let me know what you think
> 
> See you next week!
> 
> ArgoLane xx
> 
> P.S. Is it too crazy/delusional to ask for some It’s All We Have inspired fan art? XD Who knows, maybe they’ll end up somewhere on my AO3 account?? ;)


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

STILES

I woke up with a familiar crick in my neck and the familiar stiffness of my limbs. Scott and I had fallen asleep on the couch again, somewhat leaning against each other with Scott’s wool blanket draped over us. Melissa shook us awake, telling us that we needed to get up if we wanted to get some breakfast before we left for the funeral.

Scott refused Melissa’s offer and went straight upstairs to take a shower without a glance at either of us. 

“Can you wake up Isaac, honey?” Melissa called after him.

“Yeah.” Scott said at a barely audible volume.

Melissa and I shared a knowing glance and she looked after him with a doleful expression as he ascended the stairs. 

“Your dad brought some dress clothes over earlier, Stiles. They’re upstairs.” She muttered, eyes still glued to the staircase.

“Do you need any help with breakfast?” I offered.

She looked at me, “No, no that’s fine, sweetie. Have a seat, I’ll have those pancakes ready soon.” She turned and bent down to grab a pan just as Isaac came down into the kitchen. 

The first thing I noticed about the beta was the sleep deprived, bloodshot eyes. The past couple of days, Isaac had been basically wearing the same shirt and jeans and had also let his beard grow out a little, along with forgoing anything resembling a shower until Scott and Derek at one point had to basically threaten him (Derek more than Scott) into taking one. Despite that, it wasn’t characteristic for Isaac to deprive himself of sleep. I peered at him as he muttered a ‘good morning’ to Melissa and I before he clunked down onto a chair a couple spots away from me.

“Hey.” I whispered low enough so that only Isaac’s enhanced hearing could pick it up. I didn’t want to attract Melissa’s attention. He didn’t do anything.

“Isaac.” I whispered again. Nothing. It took me a couple more tries before Isaac finally looked at me and ticked his head as if to ask me what I wanted.

“Are you ok, man?” I said. He shrugged morosely. “Did you get any sleep?” Isaac shook his head. I reached across to the center of the table to grab one of the pill capsules Deaton had given me and slid him one of the B12 tablets. He squinted his eyes at it as he held the small pill between his fingers. I pointed to it, “It’s B12. It might help you keep awake.” He nodded and popped it into his mouth and dry swallowed it. “Thanks.” he said in a hoarse voice. I nodded just as Melissa brought a plate of pancakes to the table, surprising myself that my appetite was strong enough to even entertain the idea of eating something other than tea and crackers.

…

Scott had to help me get into my dress clothes my Dad had brought for the funeral. Despite my returning appetite, my muscles still had yet to recover a full range of motion. He was quiet the entire morning. I tried to initiate some conversation as I guided my arms into the black coat Scott held out in front of him but nothing seemed to invigorate Scott enough to give an answer back. At one point I realized that this was probably going to be the case the entire day so I stopped prompting him and settled into the silence with him, hoping that it would somehow help him cope a little better. I realized that it was my turn to be there for Scott. It was my turn to be the anchor, to be his anchor.

…

 

LYDIA

Tighten, curl…tighten, curl…

A touch of eye shadow. A touch of blush. 

Hair straightened and dress zipped from behind. I stared at the woman in front of me, looking back through the mirror. Pristine. Untouchable. But still somehow damaged…

Grin and bear it, Lydia. Grin and bear it. Get through today…and everything will be fine…

I sank into my bed, waiting for my mom to finish getting ready. The weak morning light was peering through the blinds in my room and I absentmindedly stared at the shadows on the floor. I was numb. I didn’t feel anything. I know what I was going to face today. I know that it was going to be hard but I also know I need this closure. 

“Hey, Lyds.”

Jackson, wearing a simple black suit, stood in the doorway, peeking his head in.

“Hey.” I said softly.

He let himself in and settled himself onto the bed next to me, peering around the room, not saying a word. I acknowledged the warmth that seemed to radiate from Jackson nowadays, not the cool aura he seemed to uphold when he was the lacrosse star that everyone wanted to be friends with. Maybe it was a werewolf thing, maybe not. Either way, this version of Jackson made me feel safe and consoled rather than shallow or his property. How times have changed.

“I can’t remember the last time I was in this room,” he muttered after what seemed forever, “Everything’s exactly the same as it was…like nothing’s changed.”

“A lot has changed.” I said. 

“Yeah…but not how I feel about you.” he said, settling his hand into mine. I looked down at our intertwined fingers and sighed, “Jackson, you know can’t bring that up…not today…”

“I’m not asking you if we can be together again. I’m just letting you know that…no matter what happens from now on…I’m still going to care about you. I’m still going to love you, whether its in the romantic sense or not.” He thumbed the top of my hand and squeezed it a little bit before he raised it to his lips and planted a kiss on it. We locked eyes, not even thinking about the ridiculous history that accompanied our past, but simply relishing each other’s presence.

I smiled sadly at him, “Jackson, you know I will always love you. But, I’m not in love with you. I don’t feel that way about you anymore. I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be. Never be sorry for your feelings, Lydia. I understand completely. Just know that I will always be here for you, no matter how many miles of earth and water are between us. I think I’ve already proved to you already that I’m literally a phone call away.” he chuckled and I smiled at him.  
I glanced at the clock and noticed that it was close to 11. We rose from the bed to see if my mom was ready to leave.

 

SCOTT

Stiles, Issac and I stepped out of my mom’s car into the chill morning light. A few clouds had gathered in the sky and I could already sense a downpour coming not so far away. How appropriate. I suppose it’s not a funeral unless its raining, dark, and we’re all staring at a hole in the ground with foreboding jet black umbrellas clasped in our hands.

The first person I saw was Kira, accompanied with Mr. and Mrs. Yukimura, who gave me a small nod as their daughter came up to wrap me in a hug. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lydia approach Stiles and pull him into an embrace as Mrs. Martin shook hands with Sheriff and Mom while Jackson and Isaac shook hands.

A good number of students and teachers from school had come to the funeral and were greeting us with hugs, seemingly avoiding the fact that Lydia, Issac and I had sporadically showed up to school the past couple of weeks while Stiles didn’t have enough energy to go to school, let alone walk without the aid of a walking stick. It was good to know that so many had cared enough to come and say goodbye, if not to offer their condolences.

Several rows of white chairs were lined up on the dark green grass of the cemetery. Stiles and I, along with the rest of the pack, had been reserved seats in the first or second rows. From the corner of my eye I could see the two marble headstones that were on the left side of the newly dug plot, containing Allison’s late mom and aunt. But, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to even glance at the coffin that sat only 20 feet away from me. It wasn’t an open casket, but I didn’t need it to be to picture the lifeless form of my first love laid elegantly in the silk cloths and plush of the coffin. 

I had barely noticed when the ceremony started. My head was swimming in thoughts and memories. The longer I sat there the harder it became to hold my composure. I had to stay strong. I had to stay strong. I kept my eyes glued to my lap and my folded hands as the priest recited his eulogy to the congregation. Off to the side, Derek stood in repose next to Argent, who looked stoned face and just as out of it as I was. He stood alongside a small group of other people who I didn’t recognize but could only assume was the rest of the Argent clan. Even Gerard, scowling and sickly, was there slumped in his wheelchair, occasionally coughing into a dirty and used handkerchief that was almost completely covered in black blood.

Allison’s relatives spoke about how much they loved their niece or granddaughter or cousin and recounted fond times in several parts of the country and several anecdotes about a trip to France. A handful of teachers and students went to the podium to express their condolences and how much they admired her tenacity, her friendship and academic vigor, but no one from the first two rows of chairs, no one from the pack, could find the emotional strength to make their way to the podium to say a few words.

Throughout the speeches, I could feel Stiles glance at me from time to time, as if waiting for something. It was only until the end of the service did I realize my face was completely dry. There were no sign of tears. I didn’t cry. I couldn’t. 

After the coffin was put in the ground, everyone made their way over to the tent that was put up as the sky began to show signs of a downpour. They had all convened under the tarp to give the Argents their personal condolences one by one and the crowd slowly began to thin as people left to their cars to leave.

I remained glued to my chair, finding no strength to pick myself up and face Chris. Lydia had went up with Jackson to the grave and the open spot of earth to say her final goodbye. It wasn’t long before she crumpled to the ground and Jackson held her up and took her to the tent as it started. Not too late after, Isaac had left with Mom because he couldn’t bear to stay there any longer. She didn’t ask if I wanted to go too. All she said was that when Stiles and I were ready, Sheriff would give us a ride home.

Stiles and I sat in the rain, not saying a word. I could feel his eyes glancing at me again. At that point I knew what I had to do. I had to do this for me. I had to say goodbye.

Slowly, I stood up and walked cautiously towards where the newly overturned spot of earth was, practically feeling Stiles’ eyes bore into my back. I rose my head with great effort to look at the tombstones one by one:

 

KATHERINE ARGENT

Beloved Aunt and Sister

1983-2011

____________________

 

VICTORIA M ARGENT

Beloved Wife and Mother

1979-2012  
____________________

ALLISON ARGENT

Beloved Daughter and Friend

1998-2014

Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent se protéger

We protect those who can not protect themselves

____________________

 

It’s ok…

…Allison…

It’s ok…it’s ok…it’s perfect. I’m in the arms of my first love…the first person I’ve ever loved…the person I’ll always love. I love you. Scott…Scott McCall…

Please don’t…Allison, please don’t…please…

You have to tell my dad…you have to tell my dad…tell him…

…Allison…

 

I looked down at the sleek, black coffin. I thought about her face. Her smile…the way she talked…the way her voice sounded and how she never left us alone…the way she always there for us. Until now…

I broke. My legs gave way and a pain in my chest appeared. I let out a broken sob and dropped to my knees. All the tears I held in ever since that night gave way. There was a crack of thunder and the drizzling rain soon turned into a downpour. It became impossible to distinguish tears from rain. I held myself around my middle as my body rocked forward as I let out sob after sob, trying hopelessly to catch my breath.

Two familiar arms wrapped around me from behind and held me towards them. Stiles’ cracked voice was in my ear, “It’s okay, Scott…it’s okay…just hang on…hang on to me.” And I did. I held on to his arms like my life depended on it. I could hear Stiles crying from behind me. The rain didn’t let up. Huge drops of water continued to pound the ground. There was another crack of thunder. My head was spinning with grief. I couldn’t stop crying. I lifted my head to look at the tombstone that held her name and the Argent code, “I’m sorry, A-Allison…I-I’m sorry…I couldn’t save you…I’m sorry….”

Stiles let go only to turn me around to shield me from the grave and pulled me into his chest. I cried into his already soaked shirt, hanging on for dear life. My body kept shaking uncontrollably as I tried to pull myself together, but anytime I thought it was subsiding, it only came back stronger. Stiles was right there with me as he too shuddered and shaked with sobs. He rested his chin on the top of my head to look at the tombstone, “It’s ok, Scotty…it’s going to be okay…we’re going to be okay…just hang on to me…”

There was a strong hand on my shoulder and I looked up to see the Sheriff looking dolefully at us the two of us, his eyes wet with tears as well. He pulled both of us into a strong embrace and I held on even tighter to the man who was a second father to me, the man who stayed when my real dad left. I held on to the two people who didn’t let me dip below the surface. The two people other than my mom who I loved most in this dark, twisted, tragic world.

We stayed like that for what seemed forever and after awhile I finally regained control of myself. I had cried two weeks worth of tears and I felt drained and numb, with nothing but the darkness in my heart to assure me that the pain was all too real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone,
> 
> This was very emotionally difficult to write, mainly because Allison was truly one of my favorite characters on the show. Writing about her memorial was almost as bad as watching her die on screen if you can believe it. I miss that character every time I watch the show.
> 
> Please let me know what you all thought in the reviews section.
> 
> Love to all-  
> Argo Lane xx


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

STILES

We had just gotten home from the funeral and Scott had become unreachable. He refuses to make any eye contact the entire ride home.

We walk through the front door and Isaac has fallen asleep on the couch and Melissa sat near him with a cup of tea grasped in one hand and a tissue in the other. Scott made for the staircase without so much as a glance at the pair of them. I looked at Melissa and she looked after him just as she did this morning. I limped over to the staircase to follow him and I heard Melissa call me softly from behind, “Stiles.”

I turned around and she had adjusted herself on the couch so she was facing me. She beckoned for me to come over and I did. She set down the tea and took my hand in hers and looked up at me.

“I know that…you’re still recovering from everything, but…just…”

She kept glancing towards the stairway and I knew what she meant.

“Of course. He needs the both of us right now.” I said softly. Melissa smiled and kissed my hand. 

“Thank you, honey.” She tapped my hand affectionately, “Now, go. You need a shower.” she said with a half-hearted chuckle.

…

Scott’s dress clothes were already in a pile on the floor in his bedroom and the sound of a running shower came from the door. I sat on the bed facing the door and rested my chin on the crook of my walking stick, waiting for him to get out. 

What was I going to say to him? I found it ironic that I had lost a mother figure and both grandparents in my 17 years of living on this earth, and yet I had absolutely no idea how to console anyone who had just suffered a death. I knew how to cope with death. Scott didn’t. The only death Scott went through was losing a hamster when he was 6. How was he supposed to deal with something like this? The loss of the first girl Scott fell in love with.

It was my job to help Scott get through this. 

Quite some time had passed and Scott still hadn’t come out. I trudged over to the bathroom door to knock and see if everything was ok. That’s when I heard the stifled sobs coming from the other side of the door under the buzz of the water splashing on the floor of the bathtub. My hand hovered over the door knob, wanting to make sure he was ok.

But he wasn’t. He wasn’t ok.

It’s ok not to be ok. 

I took my hand away from the doorknob and settled down on the floor, leaning and resting the side of my head against the door, listening to Scott crying. I fought every temptation to go in and console him. Scott needed this moment of privacy. He needed to be alone and not be under the microscope for once. I couldn’t do anything. This one time, I have to let Scott grieve alone. 

I felt a tear roll down my cheek, as if Scott’s emotional agony was radiating through the door into me. His heartbroken sobs continued for another 15 minutes or so until it slowly subsided and the water was shut off.

I leaned my weight against the door and propped myself up and wondered if I should pretend as if I wasn’t listening in but Scott more likely probably heard my heartbeat outside the door. Before I could decide what to do, the door was already swinging open and Scott stood in the doorway. His red eyes rested on mine. My mouth hung open but before I could say anything he stepped aside and muttered in a hoarse voice, “All yours.” He strode past me and made for his drawer next to his bed. I stayed rooted to where I was and eyed him with worry as he pulled on a pair of sweats and one of my old black shirts I never bothered to take back.

He looked back at me and shrugged, “What?”

My mouth was getting dry as I let it hang open. I swallowed harshly and muttered, “Nothing, just…are…are you…okay?” Why was this so hard?

“I’m fine, Stiles.” He sat on the bed, turned away and pulled on a pair of socks. So much of this reminded me of the night that I came to after the Nogitsune was killed, except the roles were reversed. I was trying to reach out Scott and Scott was the one pushing me away…looking for the keys to his jeep…

“No you’re not, Scott…” I pushed myself to say. He looked at me, a little shocked. I stood my ground and took a deep breath, “You’re not…and what makes you think you can pretend you aren’t…to me of all people…is beyond me, Scott.” 

I stared him down but he made no attempt to say anything I made my way over and plopped down on one knee in front of him, reaching up and setting a hand on his shoulder. “Why do you do this, Scott?” I said under my breath. I took his hand and grasped it in mine.

“You can’t push everyone away, Scotty. Especially me. I know you better than anybody, man.” I said. Scott’s eyes was fixed at our locked hands. “Look at me.” I whispered. His head lifted slowly and his dark eyes met mine.

“Listen…I know that…I can’t even begin to understand how much you loved her. But…you just need to know that…I’m going to help you through this. No matter what it takes. You’ve been there for me…for the past few weeks…hell, you’ve been there for me since the day we met. And now, I’m here for you.” 

Scott bent down and rested his head on top of our intertwined hands. I felt his grip tighten as if he was trying to keep himself from losing it. I sighed and rested my head on his, “No matter what it takes.” I whispered.

Scott let go of my hands and snaked his arms around my middle and pulled me in a tight embrace and I hugged him back. Again, I was thrown back to the night I woke up and both of us ended in a crumpled heap of tears on the floor. We were still just as broken as we were that night. Part of me was worried that Scott would never be the same again…

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys.
> 
> I know this chapter and the past one was pretty heavy. I promise it gets better. 
> 
> Also, I know this is a little shorter than usual but I didn’t get as much time as I would’ve liked to get this chapter together. One more chapter until this fic wraps up. I may take a little longer to post because I really want to get it perfect for you guys before I say goodbye to this story and go on to another!
> 
> Leave a review!
> 
> Argo Lane xx


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

 

**_ Scott _ **

**__ **

_“So_ _…_ _how are you today, Mr. McCall?”_

“Well, I’m fine, I guess…um…I haven’t…I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night…”

 

_“How many hours do you manage to get a night?”_

“If I’m lucky an hour or two. Anytime time I do sleep I get…really vivid nightmares. But, most nights I don’t sleep…at all.”

 

_“Have you tried using melatonin?”_

“Yes, but it doesn’t work.”

 

_“I see_ _…_ _anything else that’s troubling you?”_

“I have trouble concentrating on things. I’ve had a few panic attacks in the last couple of weeks. At least one every few days.”

_“Have you had a history of anxiety?”_

“Not really, but…it’s gotten pretty bad lately.”

 

_“Well, Mr. McCall, it would appear that you just have a simple case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”_

“PTSD? I thought only war veterans got that.”

 

_“It can happen to anyone if that person has experienced a traumatic event. Have you experienced any trauma? Emotionally or physically?”_

“Yes…about a month ago…mentally, I guess you could say.”

 

_“In that case, I can recommend some anti-depressants. I’ll see about getting you something to handle your anxiety and maybe it can get your sleeping schedule back on track.”_

“Thank you, Dr. Bamford.”

_“Additionally, have you experienced any vivid memories or flashbacks of this traumatic event?”_

**_{3 days ago}_ **

****

****

Light began to slowly creep into my room as morning began to displace night. Birds began to chirp pedantically as the new day began.

 

Another sleepless night.

 

My eyes were dry and stinging from staring at my ceiling all night. I was exhausted, yet I couldn’t sleep. My hand subconsciously gravitated to my left, looking for Stiles even though I knew he wasn’t there. He had gone back to his house after his health had improved and he no longer needed a walking stick to get around. I looked over, still expecting him to be laying there, snoring obnoxiously with his mouth hanging open. Even though Stiles came over quite often, I find myself dreading the moments I’m forced to be with myself. I tuned in hopefully to find another heartbeat in the house other than my mom, but to no avail. Isaac had been splitting his time between Derek and Chris Argent, but neither apparently had the discretion to tell me, or anyone for that matter, why. It’s been weeks since he’s been at the house.

 

Recently, I had to return to school because I’ve been missing too many days to the point I wouldn’t graduate on time if I didn’t go. Everyone outside the pack shoot me nervous glances like I’m going to either fall apart or go on a rampage. I feel their eyes boring into my back in the classroom or when I’m walking down the hallway and it makes me feel like I’m suffocating. My teachers slowly gave me pieces of make up work to make sure I was caught up but made a point of saying that I could take all the time I needed to get it done. I never thought I would be so annoyed at the idea of having no deadline.

 

They haven’t said it, but I know Stiles and Lydia feel the exact same way, if not more. Yet, I’m the only one that doesn’t proactively try to deflect the attention for when one of us gets overwhelmed from being in the spotlight unwillingly. I feel bad about it, but they always brush it off.

         It would’ve been safe to assume that my accelerated healing would’ve helped with the grogginess and soreness that accompany the loss of a couple of night’s sleep but, apparently, werewolves need their sleep too. My body felt like it had taken a couple of blows from a wrecking ball. Getting out of bed was almost nearly as difficult as finding the motivation to actually go to school at all.

 

_Another sleepless night._

 

…

 

 

**_ Stiles _ **

**__ **

         It was like it was alive and looking at me, staring me down as I tossed myself out of bed and slipped on my clothes. It felt like this huge hole in the wall. I tried to ignore it as best as I could as I disappeared into my bathroom to gel my hair and brush my teeth but it was still as disconcerting as it had been, if not more. I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

 

         I strode up to the makeshift crime board, cluttered with photographs, forms, documents, all connected by several strands of red strings. I picked off photograph after photograph and barely gave it the time of day before I tossed it in the wastebin. One by one, I ripped out the string and several papers that had been pinned into the board.

 

         There was a voice that came from my door, “Hey.” I looked over my shoulder to see my dad in the doorway. He cocked his head toward the board and said, “What’cha doing?”

 

         I looked back and forth between the board and my father, “Uh, just…clearing my head.” I muttered. He nodded subtly and shifted out of the door frame. I smirked after him as I tore out the last few pieces of evidence from the board and added it to the waste pile, leaving the board blank and empty, ready for the next mystery Beacon Hills had in store for it.

 

…

 

 

**_ Scott _ **

 

         I shifted my motorbike into place and switched it off. I could already feel people looking at me as I slipped off my helmet, as if I was some animal on display. Not even 15 seconds later, Stiles’ Jeep pulled into the spot next to mine. I stood by as Stiles slipped out of his seat.

 

         “Hey, Scotty.” he said with a small grin.

 

         “Hey, man.” I said a little too softly. We clapped out a hug and walked together towards the front entrance to the school. I noticed Kira’s car parked next to Lydia’s blue Toyota. Almost involuntarily, I tuned in to the voices inside the school until I could find her’s.

 

         _“I wish I could say something to him.”_

My heart made a quick skip. I pricked my ear to try and listen more.

 

         _“I wish I could say something to all of them. I don’t know how much space or time I’m supposed to give them_ _…_ _”_

I pulled open the heavy doors of the school and Kira was standing impishly next to Lydia’s locker. I locked my eyes on her.

 

         _“I know I’m still just the new girl at school_ _…_ _”_

 

         Lydia made eye contact with a girl walking by with Coach and muttered, _“Not for long.”_

 

         I saw the girl’s face and realized it was Malia. The girl that had been missing for almost 8 years. As she passed, she shot Stiles and I a knowing smile and we returned it without hesitation.

 

 

…

 

 

         Stiles and I were at our lockers when a familiar scent caught my nose and I turned to see Isaac slowly making his way over to us. Stiles and I exchanged glances, given we had barely heard anything from him since the funeral.

         “I’ll meet you in homeroom, man.” Stiles said.

I nodded as Isaac closed the gap between us. He didn’t look as disheveled as he usually did, but I could tell something was bothering him.

 

         “Hey,” I said to him.

 

         “Um…hey..” His voice was soft but had an edge to it. There was a silence between us as I waited for him to talk. His eyes shifted back and forth, not wanting to meet mine. I looked around and lowered my voice, “Where have you been? You haven’t answered any calls, any texts…we’ve been worried about you.”

 

         The bell rang and everyone started making their way to their first class of the day, leaving the hallway almost empty, save a few milling students.

 

         Isaac massaged his neck in discomfort, “I know…I know…um…I need to tell you something…”

 

         “What is it? Is everything ok?”

 

         “Yeah, I’m ok…I just…I wanted to tell you that I’m-“

 

         “McCall! Lahey!” A sharp voice down the hall pierced the silent halls. Mrs. Truvo was walking towards us, flinging her arms up in exasperation, “Last I checked you two are supposed to be in my Math class!” Isaac and I looked back and forth, embarrassed. She stuck out her arm towards her classroom, “Step to! Come on!” I hastily shut the locker and the two of us sped walk over to the classroom. “Talk to me later,” I whispered to Isaac as we took two seats across from Stiles. Isaac gave me a small nod as we fished out our notebooks from our book bags.

 

…

 

**_ Melissa  _ **

**__ **

         I stepped into the Sheriff’s station and was immediately met with the scent of newspapers and cheap coffee. I made my way through the Deputy’s desk, nodding at the receptionist, and saw John through the glass of the Sheriff’s office, brooding over open case files with a coffee mug in hand. I knocked a couple of times on the glass of the door. John looked up, smiled and set his mug down to wave his hand over.

 

         “Hey there!” He said. I smiled, “Hey,” I said as I slumped into the chair that was set in front of his desk. He closed the files he had been slumped over, pushed them aside and folded his hands, “So…I hate to say it but I don’t think I can get you out of another speeding ticket, Melissa.” He chuckled as I blushed with a tinge of embarrassment, “No, no that’s not why I’m here.” I laughed.

 

John sat back into his chair, “So, what brings you to the station?”

 

I shifted uncomfortably in the hard chair, wondering where to begin. He seemed to notice my demeanor and knitted his eyebrows together, “Is everything all right?” he said softly.

 

“I’m not entirely sure.” I said, meeting his grey eyes “It’s Scott, he…I can tell there’s something wrong with him…”

 

“What do you mean?” he said, voice laced with concern.

 

“He’s been…very…distant? I don’t know, he’s…been avoiding me and I can tell that he hasn’t been sleeping and I think he’s…really struggling over what’s happened.”

 

“Well, I mean…it’s only been a month since Allison died. Scott lost a dear friend, Melissa.”

 

“Allison wasn’t just a friend John,” I said as I shook my head, “I mean, you should’ve heard how he talked about her when they started dating. It was like…she was the only one on the planet that mattered to him. And when they broke up, Scott had lost his anchor. Now that she’s gone…I’m afraid he’ll lose the will to live…”

 

“Are you saying he’s become suicidal?” he said.

 

“I’m saying it could get to that point if he doesn’t get help.”

 

“We are helping him, he’s got us, he’s got Stiles! All of us are helping each other to get through this.”

 

“I mean…he might need _professional_ help.” I said stiffly.

 

“Professional? You mean therapy?”

 

“It’s why I came to you. I know Stiles went to therapy after Claudia passed away and…I came today wondering if you could give me a referral.”

 

John’s eyebrows seemed to knit even closer as he reached for a note and pad and scribbled a name and number and passed the note across the desk. “He’s the best therapist I know…he definitely helped Stiles get through a lot.”

I took it, glanced at the scribbled writing and stuffed it into the pocket of my scrubs as I murmured my thanks. We stood up and embraced one another tightly.

 

After we broke apart, I made for the door to leave, but not before I heard John say, “Don’t be a stranger, Melissa.” I turned back, smiled, and closed the door shut, once again internally smirking at that familiar spark that I always felt after our conversations….

 

…

 

**_ Scott _ **

**__ **

         The familiar hustle and bustle of the locker room was more comforting and welcoming then I could’ve ever imagined. A much needed hint of normality. Go figure.

 

         I was walking out to the cross country track when Coach clapped me on the back. “McCall, you got a second?” His usually loud and cantankerous voice diminished to what seemed to be a normal volume level of conversation. “Yeah,” I said as Coach guided me over away from everyone.

 

         “First things first, McCall. Welcome back. We’ve missed you out here.” He said.

 

         “Thanks, Coach.” I murmured, wondering where this conversation was heading.

 

         “Listen, I uh…I know you’ve been…going through a lot, and I uh…just wanted to make sure you’d be…okay to…” He started to make hand gestures towards the track until I finally caught on.

 

         “Oh, yeah I’m…I’ll be okay, Coach. I’m good to run.” I said. Coach nodded appreciatively, “Good, good, um…well, get to it then!” His voice returning to that familiar loudness. I walked away from him, smiling to myself at what appeared to be a display of genuine concern from Coach.

 

         I saw Isaac doubled over, lacing up his shoes when I remembered when he tried to talk to me this morning. I walked over and bent down next to him, lowering my voice, “Hey.”

 

         He looked over, “Oh, hey.”

 

         “What did you need to talk to me about?”

 

         He looked around nervously, “Maybe this isn’t the best time…”

 

         “Good a time as any, man.” I said encouragingly.

 

         “Um…well, I…”

 

         _BRRRRRRRRRRRR_

“ALL RIGHT, YOU DELINQUENTS, LINE UP!”

 

         Coach’s whistle pierced the air again and everyone scrambled to the starting line. I gave Isaac a knowing look. _Later, I promise._

With a final whistle blow, we zoomed off, kicking dust and dirt into the air.

 

         It felt good to be running the trail again. It felt… _normal._ I couldn’t help but crack a smile as I felt the wind rush through my hair. The smell of trees invaded my nostrils. I was passing by and maneuvering my way around people one by one as I picked up my pace. _How’s that for vulnerable?_

At this point, I was at least half a mile ahead from everyone else and my adrenaline began to climb higher and higher. My breathing became shallower and my vision started to phase into a bright red as the line between human and wolf began to slowly blur.

 

I saw a figure run past me and go the other way, throwing me off and causing me to stumble. I caught myself and looked back and saw nothing. I shook it off and ran even faster. It was only a few seconds later did I see something…someone…run in front of me and into the thicket of trees to my left. _It couldn’t be_ _…_ Losing all sense, I ran off the trail and after those familiar locks of black hair.

 

_Scott_ _…_

Her voice was in my ear. A voice I thought I would never hear again.

 

_Its ok_ _…_ _Its perfect_ _…_

I ignored my burning throat as I gulped in cold breath after cold breath. I pushed my legs to go faster.

 

_I’m in the arms of my first love_ _…_

No. My eyes started stinging. I clasped my hands over my ears, but nothing seemed to drown out the noise.

 

_…_ _the first person I’ve ever loved_ _…_ _the person I’ll always love_ _…_

I screamed as loud as I could but nothing could get her voice out of my head.

 

_I love you_ _…_ _Scott McCall_ _…_

My foot caught on a log and I was hurling down an incline, feeling tree branches scrape my skin and my back hitting the ground roughly. When I opened my eyes, darkness had fallen and I wasn’t surrounded by trees anymore. I looked around and heard the clangs of metal swords and howls of pain. As soon as I realized what was happening I shut my eyes closed, like a child finally realizing he was caught in a nightmare. Despite closing my eye, I could still see and hear the swish of black cloaks dancing around werewolves and a hunter, readying to strike her down and impale her with their dark black blades…

I let out a howl so loud it felt like my world was shaking. I felt tears burning my eyes and streaking down my face. I was reliving it. I felt everything.

 

I was trapped.

 

 

**_ Derek _ **

 

         I was on my morning run when I heard it. I heard a scream coming from the forest that made me stop dead in my tracks. My ears tuned in to any sounds I could pick up. I started walking cautiously towards an entanglement of branches that led into the forest.

 

         I had only walked maybe 20 feet in when I heard a howl. I recognized it immediately.

 

         _Scott._

         With that, I took off at a sprint towards where I thought the howl came from. It didn’t take long for me to pick up on an elevated heartbeat and deep labored breaths.

 

         I followed Scott’s scent before I came across a steep incline. He was at the very bottom, hands over his ears, eyes clenched and body fidgeting.

 

         “Scott!”

 

         I jumped down to where his body lay and tried to examine what was wrong. There were no wounds to be seen. He looked like he was trapped in his own head.

 

I knew exactly what was happening…

 

         I gripped his wrists to get him to stop fidgeting, but the contact only seemed to make everything worse. Scott’s eye’s wrenched open and they were ruby red. He tried to fight against me, as if he didn’t recognize me.

 

         “Scott! Scott… _stop!_ ”

 

         Nothing would bring him out of it. The stench of pure fear was radiating off of him. I was at a loss of what to do.

 

         _“Derek!”_

 

         A voice shouted from behind me. I turned around just in time to see Isaac effortlessly slide down the incline and run over to us. His eyes seemed to glaze over, seemingly just as confused as I was.

 

         “I heard his howl. What’s wrong with him?” he said in between heavy pants.

 

         “I don’t…I don’t know.” I said. Scott was now actively trying to use his fists to punch me.

 

         “He’s having a panic attack, Derek.” Isaac said. I looked over at him and back to Scott, picking out the underlying odor of anxiety interlaced with fear.

 

         “How do we bring him out of it? He’s going to make himself pass out if he keeps breathing like this.” I said urgently.

 

         “Pain…” Isaac whispered. I looked at him questioningly, “What?”

 

         “Pain,” he said more confidently, “pain makes you human.”

 

         Realization dawned on me at what I had to. “He’s not going to like me very much after this…” I whispered to myself. “Hold on to his wrists.” I instructed Isaac. As soon as he took over, I gripped Scott’s upper arm and quickly twisted his forearm against it. Scott let out a guttural yell of pain as his eyes returned to their regular brown. Isaac looked at me with wide eyes, “What did you _do?_ ” he said with conviction.

 

         “I just broke his arm. It’s ok,” I said, raising a hand at Isaac’s reaction, “I’ve done it before, he’ll heal in a matter of minutes.” I looked over at Scott who seemed to have calmed down significantly, only clenching his arm in pain. He looked over at us, “What happened to me,” he said with a cracked voice. Isaac and I helped him into a sitting position.

 

         Isaac shrugged his shoulders, “You tell us, man. Derek and I found you like this.”

“It looked like you were having a nightmare.” I said, internally chastising myself for how blunt that came across. Scott looked down at his lap, lost in his thoughts. He shook his head, “I probably just…I haven’t got a lot of sleep lately and…probably tried to do too much too fast…” Scott said, not even looking at us. Isaac and I met eyes, both knowing this was classic Scott McCall deflection. Yet, we both knew now wasn’t the time to bring it up.

 

         “Come on,” Isaac said, lacing an arm around Scott’s middle, “Let’s get you home.” We both propped him up on our shoulders and slowly made our way back to the school.

 

…

 

 

**_ Melissa _ **

**__ **

         “What do you mean?” I hissed into the phone.

_“Derek and I found him off the Cross Country trail and he looked like he_ _…_ _I don’t_ _…_ _I don’t know but he had his hands over his ears and_ _…_ _”_

“Ok…ok, ok…um…well, where is he now?”

_“Derek’s taking him back to the house, I gotta go tell Coach what happened.”_

         “Ok, then tell him I’ll be home soon.”

_“I think that he saw her_ _…_ _”_

“Her?”

_“I think he saw_ _…_ _I think he was having a flashback about Allison_ _…_ ”

 

         “…just make sure Derek gets him home, Isaac. I’ll see you soon, ok?”

        

_“Ok...”_

I set the phone down and rested my head in my hands. A _flashback_. A symptom of PTSD. I rifled through my bag until I found the crumpled up piece of yellow pad paper with the name and number of the therapist John scribbled down. I picked my phone back up and hastily dialed the number without hesitation.

_…_

 

**_ Stiles _ **

 

         Isaac and Scott had disappeared after Cross Country and neither were returning my calls or texts. Needless to say my anxiety didn’t take too well to that. I had two classes left for the day and I couldn’t help but fidget in my seat and continuously glance at the clock, which felt like it wasn’t even moving as the teacher droned on and on. I continued to send texts to Isaac and Scott.

 

         By the time I got to History, my last class, I was ready to flip every available desk and table in reach. I caught Kira’s eye and took a seat across from her in the back. I lowered my voice, not wanting anyone else to hear, “Hey.”

 

         She looked over from extracting her books out of her bag, scanned my face, and, in a hushed whisper, she asked, “Is everything ok?”

 

         I shook my head, “I don’t know. I mean, I mean I don’t think so.”

 

         “Is it…”

 

         “Yeah. Scott and Isaac completely vanished after Cross Country. No sign of them in the locker room or in any of their classes after. I’ve texted and called both of them but I got nothing back.”

 

         “What about Scott’s mom? She’ll probably know.”

 

         I shook my head, “I can’t call Melissa during work hours.” I said.

 

         “I’m sure everything’s fine, Stiles. Maybe…Isaac just needed to talk to Scott about something and school wasn’t the best place to do it.”

 

         I tried to go along with her reasoning, “Yeah, Isaac did come up to him this morning wanting to talk about something but I think Truvo got to them before they could finish.”

 

         “Well, there you go. Maybe they didn’t want to be interrupted.”

 

         “I guess but…Scott’s just a few absent days away from graduating late, I don’t think he would’ve skipped…”

 

         Kira reached over and rested a hand on my arm, “Stiles, whatever it is, I’m sure they’re fine. Besides, we’re almost done with the day. Just make it though my dad’s lecture and I’m sure by then you’ll have gotten something from someone letting you know they’re ok. All right?” I nodded, conceding.

 

She smiled and opened up her notebook, but I could tell all her actions were stiff and forced. Only now did I realize she was probably just as worried as I was.

 

         I pulled out my phone and sent one last text to Scott and Isaac before stuffing it away in my bag, hoping that one of them would have the sense to reply and let me know what the hell happened to them.

 

 

…

 

 

**_ Scott _ **

 

         I was stupid to think it would be this easy to get back into something like Cross Country. Especially running on absolutely no sleep.

 

         I didn’t say anything during the ride home in Derek’s annoyingly spotless Camaro. I stared blankly out the window, lost in reverie, so much so that I didn’t realize when we had rolled into my driveway.

 

         “Hey,” I heard from my left. I looked over at Derek, seemingly studying my demeanor. “Are you going to be ok until your mom gets home?” he asked, somewhat gruffly. I nodded and unlocked the switch of the door to leave before Derek re-locked it from his annoyingly optimized driver’s control panel.

 

         “You sure you don’t want me to stay for a few?” he asked. “I’ll be ok.” I said, reaching for the lock again before Derek locked it again. I huffed and looked at him, “What are you doing?”

 

         Derek looked back and he seemed to be fighting with something in his mind before he seemed to give up, “Nothing.” he said softly, punching a button that unlocked my door. I opened the door a couple of inches, thought for a second, and looked back at the black haired werewolf that introduced me to the supernatural world. “Derek, please tell me what you’re thinking before I have to force it out of you.”

 

         His hands tightened on the wheel and his lips pursed. I could sense how impatient he was getting. He wasn’t the only one. “Fine. Thanks for the ride.” I stepped out of the car and made my way up the driveway. My hand was on the doorknob when I heard the car door open and Derek’s voice behind me, “I’m trying, Scott.” he said curtly.

 

I turned back and waited for him to explain but he didn’t. “What do you mean?”

 

         Derek let out a long sigh and started to stroke his stubble in discomfort, “I know what you’re going through.”

        

“How can you possibly know what…” I stopped dead in my tracks, mentally kicking myself for being so _damn stupid_.

 

         “Because I lost more than half of my family in a fire, Scott. _That’s_ how. And you are in the same place that I was when I was trying to get over it. I knew exactly what was happening when I found you in the middle of the woods like that. You saw everything that happened that night play over again, didn’t you. You could see, hear and feel everything, couldn’t you?” he said gruffly.

 

         I nodded, not willing to even look him in the eyes.

 

         “Well, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but it won’t be the first flashback you have of that night.”

 

         There was nothing but the silent hum from the Camaro to underscore the sharpness of Derek’s voice and the words he seemed to be throwing at me. I stood frozen, losing all feeling in my limbs as I listened to Derek.

 

         “You want to know the _only_ difference between you now and me back when I lost the small handful of people I cared about most in this world? You have people that are _there_ for you. Who actually _give_ a damn about you, Scott. Who want to help you get through something no teenager at this age should be going through. I _didn’t._ I didn’t have _any_ of that. I’m not trying to make myself look the victim. I’m just trying to show you just how many people care about you, and are by your side to help you move on from this.”

 

         Derek turned back and was almost back in the driver’s seat before he looked at me and said, “I’m just trying to be one of those people, Scott.” And with that, he disappeared into the black car and zoomed down the road, leaving me in the dust, with a whole new found respect for Derek Hale.

 

…

 

**_ Stiles _ **

 

         As soon as the bell rang, I made sure I was the first one out of the classroom and into the lot, hastily checking my phone but to no avail. It was only until I stuffed my phone into my pocket did I realize that Isaac was leaning against the Jeep, arms crossed, just minding his own business.

 

         “What the hell, man?” I shouted from halfway across the lot. He looked

up and shrugged. Classic Isaac.

 

         “What the hell happened today? I’ve sent you and Scott a thousand texts” I said when I finally got to my parking space. I glanced over at Scott’s bike, still untouched from this morning, “Speaking of which, where is Scott?”

 

         “Derek took him home.” Isaac said as we climbed into the Jeep. _Derek_ took _Scott_ home? “What, did you hold him at gunpoint if he didn’t?” I asked him as I backed out and maneuvered Roscoe onto the main road. Isaac shook his head, “He offered.” he said simply.

 

         “Is Scott okay? What happened?” I asked.

 

         “He’s okay now, but…basically while we were running Cross, I heard a scream and then I heard Scott’s howl. I ran off the track to where I heard it and when I found him, Derek had him by the wrists.”

 

         “Were they fighting?” I asked quickly. Isaac dismissed it, “No, they weren’t fighting. Derek probably heard his howl too and he was trying to get Scott to calm down. It…Scott, he was in the middle of a panic attack, and he had his eyes completely shut and it was like he was completely unreachable. Derek had to break his arm to get him to come to.”

 

         I ran a hand through my hair, letting a sigh out, “Yeah, I think I know what he was going through.”

 

         “So do I…”

 

         I looked over, “Do you get flashbacks too?”

 

         He nodded, peering out the window and watching the trees whip by, “From time to time, yeah…”

 

         “Is that why you haven’t been around lately?” I asked softly. Isaac kept his eyes glued to the window. “Derek used to get them a lot when his family died…he’s just been helping me deal with it.”

 

         “I know the feeling, I, kinda…used to get them after mom died. They aren’t much fun, are they?”

 

         He only shifted in his seat and continued to watch the scenery go by until I turned into Scott’s neighborhood. Without a word, we hopped out of the jeep and strode over to the wooden door.

 

“You know Scott’s missed you at home, right? Melissa, too.” I said.

 

Isaac simply nodded his head as he pushed open the door.

        

         The scene that awaited Isaac and I as we walked through the foyer was one that stopped us dead in our tracks. Scott, donning my old black t-shirt again, was sitting at the table with Melissa, holding him from behind. It was clear that they were both crying, as Scott held onto Melissa’s sleeve and rested his head on her arm.

 

         Isaac and I both exchanged glances, completely at a loss of what to do. I wondered if this was another one of those times where I needed to give Scott some space. By looking at Isaac, he seemed to confirm that it was indeed one of those times.

 

I patted Isaac on the arm, “When you can, just tell him to call me later Just to make sure he’s ok.”

 

         “Where are you going?” he whispered.

 

         I shrugged “Home, probably. I still have a smidge of make-up work to finish. But you,” I prodded him in the chest with my pointer finger, “need to stay here because this is where you belong. Did you ever get to talk to him about whatever it is you wanted to talk about?”

 

         “I’m surprised you haven’t asked what it’s about yet, to be perfectly honest.” he said, crossing his arms.

 

         I shrugged again, “You went to Scott, not me. Obviously whatever it is, its something between you and him. And that’s fine with me.”

 

         “…I’ve been trying to get him all day but we keep getting interrupted.”

 

         “Then, for now, give him some space and maybe later he’ll be willing to talk about it.” I said.

 

         He nodded, “You’re right.”

 

         “Aren’t I always?” I said with a side-smirk. I pat him on the back, said goodbye and made my way back out to the Jeep. As a last minute thought, I whipped out my phone and opened my contacts and immediately saw her name as the first one listed. My brain seemed to be scolding itself at seeing this. _Are you an idiot? Why haven’t you deleted her name yet? What if Scott borrows your phone months from now and sees this and it triggers something?_

 

         I clicked the name, clicked _edit_ and hovered my finger over _delete contact_. Admittedly, this whole thing probably held more levity than it probably should have. But then again, I’m Stiles Stilinski. Almost _everything_ is a big deal and, in retrospect, what else do I have to remember her by?

 

         I closed the screen, scrolled down to Kira’s name and sent her a quick text,

 

         _Scotts home and he’s okay. Just wanted to let you know._

 

 

I slid my phone into the cup holder and backed out of the driveway, still subconsciously contemplating on whether or not giving Scott some space was the right move…

 

 

…

 

 

**_ Isaac _ **

**__ **

         I climbed the stairs until I was right outside of Scott’s door. It had been a couple of hours since Stiles and I came home. _Did I give him enough of time? Its not like I can’t wait until tomorrow_ _…_

         I was so busy mentally fighting myself that I didn’t hear footsteps getting closer and the doorknob turn with a squeak. I looked up and I was face to face with Scott, my right hand awkwardly floating in front of me as it was about ready to knock.

 

         “I heard your heartbeat from the bed. Kinda hard not to miss.” Scott said with a dry voice. I nodded, “Do you think maybe we can talk now?” my mouth getting drier by the minute. Scott’s hand flew up to his forehead and I started to panic, “I’m sorry, I…we…it can wait.” I said as I began to turn around.

 

         “No, come back. Sorry, its just I completely forgot about it, that’s all. Come in, please.” He said stepping aside. I walked in and strode over to a chair in the corner of the room. Scott, shutting the door, took a seat at the edge of the bed and leaned forward on his knees, “What’s going on, Isaac?”

 

         “So…here’s the thing…” My voice caught in my throat. _Damn, this was going to be a lot harder than I thought it would be_.

 

         I leaned forward just as Scott did. “Scott, I’m leaving.” I blurted out. What I said didn’t seem to register because Scott’s expression was blank. He shook his head slightly, “Wait, you’re…leaving?”

 

         “Yeah,” I sighed.

 

         “I mean, not to be rude or anything but you haven’t been at the house lot so I kinda just assumed-”

 

         “I’m not leaving the house, Scott. I’m leaving Beacon Hills.”

 

         Scott broke his stare and slightly bowed his head. I tried to pick up any sort of vibe or chemosignal to gauge what he was feeling but nothing seemed to come up.

 

         He looked back up at me, “Why?” he said softly.

 

         “Argent’s been teaching me about weapons and negotiations ever since that night. At first, I went along with it because I knew that it was his way of distracting himself, his way of coping. But, as it turns out, I have a talent for it and…he’s going to Paris for a while to get away from everything and work on building up his arsenal and he asked me…if I wanted to come…with him. And I said yes.” I finished lamely.

 

         I could see the cogs turning in Scott’s mind as he tried to absorb what I just told him. I looked down to the floor, wondering what else I could possibly say to make this less difficult.

 

         “When do you leave?” Scott asked.

 

         “Tomorrow.” I sighed, still keeping my eyes to the floor. “I need to get away, Scott. There’s just too much pain…too many memories. Honestly, given what happened today, I think you should be thinking about the same thing…”

 

         We sat in silence for what seemed like forever before Scott whispered, “We’re going to miss you around here. I think mom’s taken a pretty nice liking to you.” He said with a small hint of a smile.

 

         “You don’t know how much I appreciate what you and your mom have done for me. Giving me a home. A _family_.” I felt a lump grow in my throat. “It means a lot…” I whispered.

 

         Without a word, the both of us rose from our seats and embraced each other. Scott patted my back, “You’ll always be family.” he said through the fabric of my sweater. “ _Always_.”

 

…

 

**_ Stiles _ **

 

         I was on my bed, textbook propped up on one knee and my laptop on the other when I heard the door ring. Dad opened it and I strained to hear who it was. Light feet climbed the steps until I saw Lydia appear in the doorway.

 

         “Hey, you.” She smiled.

 

         I smiled back, “Hey.”

 

         She flung her purse over to a chair and settled herself at the edge of my bed, looking over at the History project I was typing out. Lydia scrunched up her eyebrows, “You’re still working on that? I thought it was due Monday.”

 

         “It was,” I said flatly, “Kira’s dad is gave me an extension last week before I could refuse. Gave me time to catch up on other stuff, though, so…”

 

         “I see…” she said, peering around the room at the poster-littered walls.

I nudged her knee, “What brings you here? Unannounced, I might add.” I said with a smirk and a feigned chastising expression.

 

         “Like you care!” She scolded lightly and laughed, “I just came back from dropping off Jackson at the airport and just thought I’d stop by to see how you were doing.”

 

         I closed the laptop and textbook and set them aside, pulling my knees to my chest and resting my arms on top of them, “I guess, I’m ok…I’m sleeping a lot better. I don’t get nightmares all the time anymore…”

 

         Lydia nodded, “That’s good! I suppose things are getting back to normal now, huh?”

 

         “It’s Beacon Hills, define normal,” I chided

 

         “Well…” she thought for a moment, “we’re in no immediate peril as far as I know, so…I’d say things are pretty normal. Or, at least, as normal as they can be.” she said.

 

         “Yeah…” I said, wringing my hands, seemingly catching Lydia’s eye. She looked at me, “What’s wrong? You only do that when you’re worried.”

 

         “Nothing, it’s just…Scott had a flashback during Cross Country today…” I said softly. Lydia cocked her head. “What do you mean?” She said, leaning in a little closer. I ran my hand through my hair, “Isaac said he found him in the middle of a flashback. He thinks Scott saw that night happen again. The night she died…I’m just worried about him that’s all.”

 

         Lydia shifted herself over and rested her head on my shoulder. I felt the tension in my shoulders get alleviated, “You know the thing about Scott is…” I continued, “he has a talent for keeping everything inside, everything bottled up. Ever since he became an Alpha, he doesn’t let _anyone_ see him in a weak moment. Not even me _._ He thinks he has to be strong for everyone else but…he ends up doing himself more harm than good.”

 

         “Scott’s always been like that.” Lydia whispered, “He’s just selfless.

And he’s going through a lot. Like the rest of us. We’re all still trying to move on and get used to a life without Allison.

 

I craned my head to look at her, “Are you ok?” I whispered.

 

         “Yeah. I just miss her.” she said simply. The way she said, it seemed that the grieving was over and the acceptance started to take its place. Progress.

 

         “We all do, Lyds.” I took her hand and started stroking it softly, resting my head on hers. I felt the warmth between us and I wished we could stay like that forever. I’m not sure how I felt about Lydia after the whole thing with Malia at Eichen. But right now…this was good enough for me…

 

         My phone started buzzing closest to Lydia and she stretched across the bed to get it. She glanced at the screen, “It’s Scott.” she said. I took the phone from her and picked the call up.

 

         “Hey, Scotty.”

 

         _“Hey.”_

        

         “…are you ok?”

 

         _“Can you pick me up?”_

        

         “Uh…” I glanced at the clock, “It’s a little late but, I guess I can. Where do you want to go?”

 

_“I don’t know, just a place where we can talk.”_

         “Ok. I’ll be there soon, ok?”

 

         _“Ok.”_

I hung up and stuck my phone in my pocket. I looked at Lydia, “I’ve got to go pick Scott up. Do you want to come?” I said. Lydia laughed softly as she got up and grabbed her bag, “I’m sure it’s better if its just you two.”

 

…

 

**_ Isaac _ **

**__ **

ALLISON ARGENT

 

Beloved Daughter and Friend

 

1998-2014

_Nous prot_ _é_ _geons ceux qui ne peuvent se prot_ _é_ _ger_

 

_We protect those who can not protect themselves_

**__ **

        

         The light of the full moon cast itself down on only half the tombstone, but I still tried to memorize every single detail about the marble and it’s engravings. The flowers that had been set at the foot of the grave had wilted and Chris bent down to replace them with fresh ones. The bright of yellow of the petals was juxtaposed against the harsh grey. I made a point to Chris that I needed to visit her one more time before we left, not knowing for sure when I would be back in Beacon Hills, if not at all. He stood next to me, his face almost set in stone as he wore a mask a neutrality. Compartmentalizing at its finest.

 

         I looked at her name one last time before I felt like I was ready to leave. Chris and I got into the car and drove off into the night. I looked up at the full moon, barely feelings its effects anymore. It was only a matter of time until we were on the highway overlooking Beacon Hills. I stared out at the small town that had been my home, my _real_ home. Not that the hell I lived in with my dad. I smiled internally at all the memories I had with the pack. All of the memories I had with _her._

 

         _Goodbye, Allison._

 

…

 

 

**_ Scott _ **

 

         “Where is he going again?”

 

         “Paris.” I said.

 

         “France?”

 

         “What other Paris is there?”

 

         “..uh…V-Vegas?”

 

         Stiles and I were laying across Roscoe’s hood, staring up at the full moon and the stars. Stiles had parked the Jeep at the top of a cliff somewhere in the Beacon Hills Preserve, looking over Beacon Hills. Everything was quiet except for the chirping of crickets. The only light came from the headlights and the moon. I felt its effects stirring inside of me but I kept it down like I always did.

 

         “Is he coming back?” Stiles said, looking over at me. I shrugged, still staring up at the moon, “He didn’t say. I don’t know how long they’re going to be there.”

 

         “I suppose he isn’t graduating with us next year then.”

 

         “I guess not. Chris helped him get released from school. He’s almost 18 so he left it up to Isaac.” I said.

 

         “And how do you feel about that?” Stiles muttered, nudging me with his elbow. I shrugged again, “It’s up to him.”

 

         Stiles sat up a little and brought his knees up to his chest. “You’re gonna miss him, aren’t you?”

 

I chuckled and sat up with him, “Of course I’m gonna miss him. He’s pack.”

 

         “Yeah, he really helped you out today, didn’t he.”

         “Yeah, he really did…Derek did too.”

 

         “Yeah, I heard that he _offered_ to take you home today after what happened.”

 

         I nodded and looked over, “You know, when he dropped me off, he…he said that he’s trying to be there for us more than he has been. In the past, I mean.”

 

         “I picked that up the night he was _making dinner_ for us.” Stiles chided.

 

         “At least he’s making an effort.” I whispered, returning my gaze back to the full moon. “Mom wants me to go to Therapy after what happened.”

 

         “Yeah, I heard from my dad. Bamford’s a good guy. He helped me a lot when my mom died. You’ll like him.”

 

         “You know, I remembered when we were little and…I would get so mad at my mom because she said I couldn’t go over your house to play because you had to go to therapy. Like it was her fault…” I smiled at the memory.

 

         “Oh, yeah…” Stiles started laughing and I quickly joined in. Laughing, something so normal, felt out of place coming out me. Like I had almost forgotten how to…

 

         “Back when things were normal…when we were normal…when we were…” I tore my eyes away from the moon and resigned to looking at my half-laced shoes. “What? When we were _nothing?_ ” Stiles said from my right.

 

After I didn’t respond, he nudged me again, “Hey. I don’t like this kind of talk. Last time you were talking like this you were drenched in gasoline, remember?”

 

         “I know…” I said, practically smelling the stench of the gas on my clothes.

 

         “We’re getting through it, Scott. We’re all getting through this together.” He rested a hand on my shoulder, “I can’t say anything that I haven’t already said. You just focus on all the good things in your life right now. You’ve got the pack. We have each other. It’s all we have and all we need to get through this.”

 

         When did Stiles get so damn _wise_.

 

         “You’re right.” I nodded.

 

         “Of course, I’m right.” Stiles said with a cynical smile.

 

         “I don’t think we could’ve gotten through this without each other.” I said softly.

 

         “It’s what we’re here for. It’s our jobs to keep each other going, right?” he said, slipping an arm around my shoulders. I looked over and nodded with a smile.         I couldn’t help but notice how the usual glint in Stiles’ eyes every time he went off on a tangent seemed to be returning with every day. His usual glow was back, even if I could still see behind his eyes the irreparable damage that the Nogitsune left behind.

 

We were both damaged, but, somehow, we always managed to keep each other from falling apart.

 

 

**THE END**

 

 

 

 

        

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter, hopefully not too much to anyone’s dismay, has been a month in the making! I do apologize for it being late, but I had to make sure I nailed everything I wanted to before wrapping up this story.
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> 
> Please, please, please leave a review to let me know what you guys think of the last chapter of It’s All We Have.
> 
>  
> 
> In terms of future fics, I can’t promise anything at the moment, but I can definitely say that I will be writing more in the future! I love these characters too much to write them only one story :P
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> 
> Thanks to all who have already read the past chapters and have left reviews and favorite the story. As I said before, you guys are my inspiration! I write for you!
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> See you soon, everyone. Much love,
> 
>  
> 
> A. Lane


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